Judge — February 14, 1914 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

U A Japanese Best Seller HE LATEST novel in Japan has one hundred and six volumes. A novel of this length has its draw- backs, it seems tous. Whena person felt in the mood for buying a book, he might not be able to get hold of a truck the day he wanted to go shopping. When the clerks got the novel on the wagon, it would look as though they were closing out. One novel would be all that a fellow could read in a lifetime. He would start in in his youth, and by the time he was getting along toward where the hero was calling her by her first name, his grand- children would have to cuddle up close and do the reading for him. But the real trouble would come when a person let the book agent get his foot inside the door and signed on the dotted line. The first installments would be easy, but along in one’s old age they would come to be more and more of a strain. Then one’s children would have to shoulder the weekly payments, and when their hair had silvered and as they were sitting in the inglenook and living over the story their father had told them of how he had come to buy the novel and make the first payment, a knock would sound at the door, . . . and there would be the man for the next installment. We feel that a one-volume novel is best, after all. With the demands made ona person these days by the moving-picture shows, one would not get far enough ina lifetime in a Japanese best seller to find which one the girl married. - —Homer Croy. A SELFISH SUGGESTION She—What penance do you think I should adopt for Lent? He—Give up all the other fellows, Booked Solid «¢S0 FAR so good,” the busy man an- nounced. ‘‘It’s now noon. We'll meet again at four o’clock and close the deal.’” “I’ve an appointment at four o’clock,"’ said the other. “Five o’clock, then?’’ “No.”? “How about six?’’ “*Can’t see you then, either.”” “Well, seven, eh?’’ “Not for mine!"’ “Make it eight, and I’ll"’—— “Impossible !’* “Good heavens, man! this is a half-holiday?’’ “Not at all. But I’m going to get married at four o’clock, you see, and I expect to be pretty much preoccupied from then on. That’s all.’” Do you think Synonymous “That salesman is a man of polish.’” “Yes; he’s a very smooth article. A Boost for the Stage In Arkansas eggs are now being taken at the doors of the theaters as the price of admission. This will be a great boost for Thespian art in Arkansas. An actor can never do his best work when he knows there is an egg in the audience. He al- ways feels freer and more light-hearted when he knows positively and absolutely that all eggs have been taken up by the ticket man. Theatrically speaking, an egg should always be taken at the door— it should never be allowed to get behind the footlights. can let you off twice at Twelfth Street. Proposals PROPOSALS are tenders of voluntary servitude for life or during good be- havior made by a mere man in favor of a doll, duck, vampire or angel. Proposals are actuated by love, avarice, spite, passion, ambition, restlessness, moonshine, eyeshine, witchery or tempo- rary insanity. Proposals are made to a dear ina sofa corner and repeated to a dragon of a fa- ther. In the latter case the ceremony often begins in the parlor and ends at the bottom of the front steps. Any phrase that evidences a longing, desire, intention, willingness or frame of mind to pay millinery bills and stay home of nights may constitute’ a proposal, al- though couched in language of sea, sky, eternity, eyebrows, paradise, sunsets or stars above. In cases where too ambigu- ous language or blank verse is employed, it is often necessary for a court of justice to construe the proposer’s remarks, ata cost of $50,000 to that gentleman. In America and similarly sentimental- ized lands a proposal usually consists of a Dolly dialogue, a clinch, a vow to be true till the stars freeze and an osculationfest. In barbaric countries the program in- cludes a war dance, a dog feast, an arbi- tration treaty, an old-home week and a national holiday. Stuart B. Stone. In Right Ted—How was it you didn’t object to her wearing the necklace the other fellow gave her? Ned—Why, old man, she let me fasten it on! IN TWO DOSES Passenger—Does this car. go to Twenty-fourth Street? Conductor (formerly a drug clerk)— No'm; bat I comicbooks.com