Judge — February 22, 1913 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

STRANGELY FAMILIAR “Don't I know you? Your voice sounds strangely familiar.” “‘T seem to know that muff well, but your face escapes me."* Sam’s Diamond. S4™. the chore man, returned from the city with a scarf pin that contained a ‘‘diamond”’ of no usual size. It was the pride of his heart and the envy of his village companions, He treated all inquir es from them as to its value and its authen- ticity with high scorn. His employer, after a week of basking in its radiance, asked Sam about its history. “Sam,"’ he said ‘‘is it a real diamond?"’ “Wall,”’ said Sam, ‘‘if it ain’t, I’ve been skun out of a half dollar.’’ Natural Selection. Madge—I will 'eave you to name my Lenten sacrifice. give up whatever you ask me to, my dear. Merritt—Then give up all those other fellows who come around here to see you. a The faculty of ‘‘forgetting’’ often cancels an obligation. FIGURATIVELY SPEAKING. “* John, dear, I'm to be in the amateur theatricals. folks say if I should appear in tights ?’” “They would probably say that I married you for your money."’ What would The Love Lyrics of Phyllis. By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. On Strephon’s Cheek. WHat bliss to gaze on Streph- on’s noble cheek! In hours of peace so somnolent and meek, In times of stress as adamant and firm As is the jowl of any pachyderm, And showing of real power such a trace As doth suggest the great Gibral- tar’s face! How I delight to see the wrinkles play, When Strephon’s smile doth push them on their way To lose themselves, mountain rills, Where Strephon’s dimple like a mill-pond thrills! How structurally strong that cheek appears When Strephon with his jawbone works his ears! What inward force that outward jowl betrays To those who sit and at its won- ders gaze, Detecting ‘neath verve Vast reservoirs of nerve— Save when he hath not shaved! I then incline To liken it to unplaned Georgia 4 pine! i Where Caution Availeth Naught. IX A LIGHT, new runabout, Jimpson emerged from the gar- age and stopped at the curbing in front of the house. He was about to take the family out to geta little country air. “‘Now, Andy, do be careful !’’ pleaded his better half, as she climbed into the back seat and shifted the baby to the hammock formed by the curve of her other arm. ‘‘ You know you are a greenhorn at driving a machine, and you better go pretty care- ful until you get more accustomed to running an auto.’” “I will, dearie,"” was Jimpson’s reply, as he threw in the clutch and swung the machine into the road. ‘*We are going to be on the safe side even if I have to drive at a snail’s pace.’’ The engine throbbed rhythmically and the Jimpson family scooted along the country road at ten miles anhour. The air was crisp and the landscape beautiful. ‘Twas indeed a lovely day! Down a lane that was narrow and hedged on both sides drove Jimpson, honking his horn and chauffing very slow as he ap- proached acorner where the view of the crossroads was hidden by a dense thicket. Suddenly there was a flurry of dust ahead, then a crash, and when Jimpson clawed the gravel out of his eyes, he observed that his machine had been reduced to scrap iron by a big, sixty- horse-power dreadnautomobile, which was making about ninety miles an hour when it met him. Moral: A man might just as well be a blamed fool as to —Heward C. Kealey. like little its virilescent iron - plated HE WON'T ESCAPE. The man above—Run sideways, Mike! Run sideways! Shure I can't r i as fast sideways as I can frontways.”” meet one! comicbooks.com