Judge — February 1, 1913 — page 7: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“Finally, I put on my Cap, coat and Muffler and went out to get my car. I was doing my own Driving and my own Horn-Blowing that night in more ways than one. “Then I went back to get Her. Her driving Gear was a beautiful, dark-red carriage coat, and her shining Coils were Under the Hood. She had changed her Pumps for Leather Laced Boots, and altogether she was more fetching than ever. If we had been a cold Thermo Couple, perhaps I would have waited a conventional period before declaring my- self; but we were of the warm variety, and her beauty was a powerful Speed Generator. So, after turning into a quiet street, where there was no hill climbing to do and where I knew we would have only Level Surfaces to cover, I didn’t wait for a Patent License before getting busy with my free arm. I found I could talk better under the stars, so I popped the question at once. She an- swered favorably, and there was an El- liptical contact that ignited the love Spark between us for eternity. “That certainly was a Joy Ride. My Driving Dog fell exhausted by the way- side before the journey was finished, and then, having proposed a matrimonial Coupling, all that was left for me to do was to get Her Governor's number, ex- plain our mutual regard, provide for Her Housing, and produce the License Fee. I made haste to do all that, and ina few weeks we were Spliced by a clergyman. Our fortune Wheel has never known a Lk COPS??? THE RISING GENERATION. Nowadays they learn to drive before they learn to walk. Puncture. We have not had to use the Storm Curtains or adjust the Mud Guards, and our matrimonial Truck has never known an overturn. Incidentally, She's the prettiest Trophy I ever won.” Modern Roads. They were spinning along the broad highway, which was lumpy; but by and by they came to a section that was well oiled, the joy of all autoists, ‘Well,’ remarked the sensitive per- son in the rear seat, ‘they may say what they please about the perfection of the an- cient Roman roads, but I am here to testify that they are not in it with the roads of modern grease.’’ Things Worth While. Mrs. Gramercy—“I hear she got her divorce, but they can’t agree on the settlement. I suppose the hitch is about the custody of the child?’’ Mrs. Park—‘Oh, no! She's willing her husband should have the child, but she insists on having the = motor car and the French bulldogs.” What Remained. A MONTH ago exactly Smith bought himself a car, In which he meant to journey For pleasure near and far. But little did he travel Before he came to woe; Its thingumbob was busted, Its jigger wouldn’t go. Poor Smith is also damaged— His walking gear is lame, His ribs are somewhat broken, And out of joint his frame. Amid the awful havoc That blights his soul to view, One thing remains—the mortgage Is just as good as new. —MeLandburch Wilun, Thankful for One Thing. “Whew !"’ sniffed the dray horse, as a smoking motor car rushed by. “I have some faults, I know; but, thank goodness, I never learned to smoke!"” Following Instructions, “This story of yours is flat,’’ an- nounced the editor. “Well,” explained the aspiring au- thor, “I read a book called ‘Advice to Young Writers,’ and the very first thing it tells you is not to roll your manuscript.”” comicbooks.com