Judge — July 5, 1913 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

C—O Antiquated “ Y DEAR" said the proud father, ‘‘I cannot understand your objection to young Prudely as a suitor for your hand. I am sure that he is a model young man."" “There is no question about his being a PN MH model,” replied the bewitching beauty; OF ey) “but, father, dear, the trouble is that he is Te a 1912 model.”* ‘ Her Craving Sentimental he—As we sit here, gazing “=z=: on the beautiful ocean, your eyes seem to = speak an unsatisfied longing. Tell me, darling. What is it you crave? Temperamental she—I just love lobsters! Why Women Couldn't, but Now Can, Get the Vote A. D. 1613 A. D. 1913 Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more; more; Men were deceivers ever. Men now deceive you never. One foot on sea, the other on Discovered on sea, found out shore, on shore, Constant to one thing never! Constant to all of you ever! as he wrote then, and would write now, Curtis Dunham. SHAKESPEARE, A Born Diplomat «6° THAT son Hen 0’ mine is a born dipplemat,”’ said Uncle Ab Tansy, with a chuckle, when he and Uncle Ti Dodge met at a wayside spring to let their horses drink from the wa- tering trough. “*How’s that?"’ asked Uncle Ti. BETWEEN FRIENDS Mrs, Smythe—What do you suppose made Jack say the color in my cheeks reminded him of strawberries ? Mrs. Brozune—Probably because they both come in boxes ! “Wal, sir, if you could 0’ been over to our place yistiday, when Hen was sellin’ his little roan two-year-old colt to old Sim Peters, you'd have no need to ask why I say Hen is a borndipplemat. Fust thing he done when old Sim got theer was to ask him to come into the house, an’ then he brung up a couple o’ quarts o’ cider an’ a pan o’ apples, without sayin’ a word about havin’ a colt to sell. Then he smelled his ma a-fryin’ doughnuts, an’ he goes out an’ brings in a plate of f an’ after Si had et five of ’em, he played him five or six tunes on his phonygraph, an’ when one 0’ them big op’ry singers had sung a piece, if Hen didn't up an’ say that he didn’t think that her voice could compare to Si’s daughter Lyddy’s voice—an’ so it couldn’t, for Lyddy’s voice is a sort o’ a cross between a hyener at bay an’ an old Susan Beane callin’ home her keows. Well, sir, if Hen didn’t do all that an’ two or three other little things before he so much as said the word ‘colt,’ an’ blamed if he didn’t sell that critter for twenty-five dollars more’n it was wuth an’ that much more than you or me could of got for it.: Next time Pres’dent Wooderow Wilson is lookin’ for a dip- piemat, he better send for Hen, for if he ain’t a born one I can’t say it!"” —Ellis Evans. THE REMARKABLE CHANGE A PEW YEARS HAVE MADE IN MRS. JONES'S SHAPE. Then Friendship Snapped Edna—What sort of game shall we play on those college fellows? Romantic love or just plain flirtation? Doris—Let’s divide up. I'll be ro- mantic and you be the plain flirt. comicbooks.com