Judge — August 9, 1913 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Canine Obsequies THE OTHER day a Pomeranian belong- ing to a rich family in Philadelphia was covered with a silken shroud and buried ina silver- trimmed rose wood coffin, beneath a tree in the family’s coun- try place. The Pom- eranian had fallen down an elevator shaft and broken its neck. If we had a Pomeranian and it passed to the great beyond, we wouldn't bother about the silken shroud, and the day in August would have to be so cold that the ther- mometers would be wearing mufflers and pulse warmers before we would furnish a Pomeranian a silver-trimmed rosewood casket for the last sad rites. Our hair will never turn white in one terrible, racking night from grief over a Pomer- anian that has joined the silent majority. We have a sneaking suspicion that the next morning we would get up refreshed and ready to go to a double-header. We have never liked Pomeranians, and, if the truth must be known, we wouldn’t care if somebody left every elevator door on the shaft open. We wouldn't be harsh and uncompromising with the per- son—in fact, we might take him along to the game with us, Fried Chicken as a Thought Producer HE wife of the Governor of Indiana has discovered that fried chicken is a brain food. The brilliant editor of this page was pleased to learn this. Eversince he was a small boy he has been devoted to fried chicken. In fact, almost lives on it. So it is easy to see that there is something in the Governor's wife's idea. At Home to a Snapping Turtle A MAN in Cairo, Ill., has a pond of tame turtles. When he whistles, they will come up and let him stroke them on the head. We have no desire to spend our vaca- tion with this Cairo gentleman, sitting on the bank, stroking his pets on the head. We know too much about the hab- its and peculiarities of snapping turtles to sigh to run our hand over their low, retreating foreheads. One time Turkey-egg Culp had a snap- ping turtle set its teeth into the calf of his leg, and they had to put lye into the turtle’s eyes to make it let go. We laughed like everything and said that it was a good one on Turkey-egg, but we laughed too soon. One day we slipped down under the wagon bridge and went swimming all by ourself. We always liked to swim— especially where we shouldn't. Stolen swims are always sweetest. We had got just comfortably muddy, when we stepped on something round and hard. It moved, and so we felt around with our toe to see what it was. We were no time in finding out. We had put our toe where it did not belong. Our toe had got into a turtle’s mouth. When a turtle once takes hold, it has made per- manent arrangements. We crawled out and tapped the turtle on the back, but he merely blinked his cold, unfeeling eyes and tightened his lips. We did not like his attitude toward us. We felt heartily ashamed of ourself for having laughed at Turkey-egg Culp. We resolved never to laugh at any other boy who should be similarly situated. We resorted to harsher measures. We took up a club and rapped the turtle sharply on the back. He blinked his eyes at us in astonishment, but but because it hurt so. a hero. We knew there was no way to get the turtle to where there was lye. So we raised our voice louder than ever. A farmer, taking his family to town, drew up his team and came running down the bank with his knife open. He seized the turtle and began sawing at its jugular vein. Although the turtle was at a loss to understand this, it did not offer to re- lease its toe hold. We could see at once that the man rarely sharpened his knife, but we did not reprove him. The blade of the knife had tobacco stains on it, but we did not ask the man what kind of to- bacco he used. Although naturally we had a great aversion for tobacco, we stood the sight of this quite well. As we sat there while the man sawed on, we tried to think of pleasant things and to bear the turtle no malice; but, in spite of our better nature, we could not help wishing it ar early death. Finally the saw worked its way through the neck of the turtle, and at last its body was detached; but its head kept right on with the creature’s plans. The man got a stick and pried its teeth apart. We tcok our toe out at once. Our toe was not its graceful self. It looked worse for the wear. Time had ruffled it. A turtle is all right, but, no difference how sweet a disposition it had, we could Turkey-egg was did not offer to let bygones be bygones. We hit him athwart the shoulders. A look of pained surprise came into his eyes, but he did not remove his teeth. Hedidnot have any the best of us when it came to looks of pained surprise. Our heart went out to Turkey-egg, who had suffered like a martyr. Time after time we beat the turtle over the back with abandon, but it did not deter him one jot or tittle. The turtle was deaf to all reason. Never be- fore had we known that a lowly turtle had such determination. However, we did not stop to praise it. We began to yell and roll over on the bank. This was not to amuse the turtle, “THEY HAD TO, PUT LYE INTO THE TURTLE’S EYES TO MAKE IT Let Go” never become attached to it. There would always be the lurking fear that it would become attached to us. Turtles may make faithful and loving pets for aught we know, but personally we never pine for the society of turtles. comicbooks.com