Judge — August 23, 1913 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

port two hundred pounds of female loveli- ness upon a pair of three-inch French heels jug- {Se gling the 3 % rules of phy- sics?’” Certainly not. She is just demon- strating that she possesses two of the requisites of good breeding—poise and balance. Give her credit for being too wise to tackle the impossible.’’ “There!"? cried grandmother trium- phantly. ‘‘You admit that woman has limitations, and is, therefore, man's in- ferior. Man, since he harnessed the lightning, conquered the air and invaded NOT AEROPLANING Tourist—Now 1 understand why the farmer smiled when he as the crow flies." told me this was the road the depths of the sea, acknowledges no impossibilities, except”? —— ““What?”’ “Putting woman back in the humble position which she once contentedly occu- pied. ‘All the king’s horses and all the king’s men’ might be able to put her back there again, but they could not make her contented with her situation.”” The man who ‘‘takes hold’’ without thinking has a hard time to ‘‘hang on.’” An Editor's Side Issues ‘ I WOULDN'T think that publish- ing a newspaper in a little town like this would have enough in it to pay a man yery much, especi- ally if he had a family,’’ said the commercial traveler, who had fallen into conversation with the editor and owner of the Beaneville Blast. “Well, it wouldn’t have if a man had to depend on the paper alone,”’ was the reply. ‘‘But, then, I have a number of side issues. My wife keeps boarders and runs a millinery shop, and in the summertime she serves tea to auto parties and does alittle plain sewing to sort o help out. Then I repair bicycles and do something along the line of doctoring sick horses, and I keep fifty or sixty hens and canvass for three or four magazines. Then I am a justice of the peace and a notary public, and I do something along the line of fire insurance, and I repair umbrellas; and with two or three more little side issues like that, I manage to keep the Blast going, with the help of a little job printing.”” The Slash Skirt Iam no prude, but I'll admit The sight of it unnerves, When I see women wearing it Who haven’t any curves. No Change “‘Wa-al, I dunno,"’ said old lady Corntossel. “It don’t seem to make much differ- ence what party’s in power down there to Wash- in’ton— Demmy- crat, Republikin or wotnot—these here reeseats fer chickin potpie an’ tomater ketchup in the Bos- ting newspapers runs on jest abaout the same’s they did back in th’ old days o’ Andy Jackson—no better ner no wuss. I guess the country’s putty safe in most anybuddy's hands.’’ A Conviction “Talways believed,”’ she said, as she searched the trousers again to see that nothing had been left, ‘that a man should keep nothing from his wife."" ful servant. AND HER TOILET WAS COMPLETE Wife—Jack, dear, how do you like my new gown? Hubby—Where is it ? When Nancy Cooks Ww EN Nancy cooks, she lifts with care Her pet utensils from their hooks. An artful cap adorns her hair, When Nancy cooks. Demurely fair and wise she looks, As o'er some compound richly rare Her busy dimpled elbow crooks! Entrancing savors fill the air— She knows a charm not won from books! Serene, we wait ambrosial fare, When Nancy cooks! —Corinne Rockwell Swain, You Can't Phase “Em “You can’t expect us to accept stuff like this,’ said the indignant literary editor. It isn’t poetry at all—it’s sim- ply gas!”” “I see,’’ said the unruffled poet, as he meandered toward the door, ‘‘something wrong with the meter!"” IN LIEU OF A TIP? Waiter —How will you have your steak, sir? Minister (absent-mindedly) —Well done, good and faith- comicbooks.com