Judge — April 18, 1914 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Wise in that wisdom which is only serpent lore, "Your beauty you would barter, bargaining for gold Lave to be purchased by @ miser's sore, But whoever buys you, he himself is sold, certed invasion of Latin America by jol- lying, story-telling drummers of the type that swarm all over the United States. Those fellows could talk orders out of a brass idol. What Latin-American trades- sman could resist giving an order to a traveling salesman who is dressed like a prince and who gets off the latest slang and who has at least three thousand feet of the most recent stories ready to reel off at a moment's notice?” “Then,’’ said Mrs. Beanfugle contemp- tuously, ‘‘getting trade among men is simply a question of flattery and story-telling, is it?”’ “Well—er—you said Colonel Beanfugle hesitatingly, ‘it is the personal element which enters into all trade.’" ‘But a woman doesn’t have to have a lot of sociability as a bait to in- duce her to buy,’’ pursued Mrs. Bean- fugle, without mercy. ‘‘She judges merchandise strictly on its merits, and it’s mighty seldom that the talk of a salesman influences her one way or another.’” “Then it’s too bad the whole of Latin America, and the United States, too, for that matter, wasn’t settled by women!’’ snapped the colonel “T agree with you there,’’ as- sented Mrs, Beanfugle. ‘Probably the proportion of problems which worry you so every time you pick up a newspaper would be greatly re- duced.”” Mrs, Boosey was granted a divorce from her husband. Can't blame her. It is rather humiliating for a woman to remain boozey forever. A June bride, a noon bride, « bride of yesteryear, Red lips that faded in the washtub’s steam, Corned beef and cabbage and pale, stale beer, ‘And this was past the reckoning of “Love's Young Dream.” BRIDES “Aye, There's the Rub!” 'Tis not much bother for a man To make his mark in politics; The trouble’s in removing it. That gets some fellows in a fix! Free Now Hewitt—Gruet treats his wife pretty shabbily. Jewett—And he used to be her slave. Hewitt—Evidently the marriage certifi- cate was an emancipation proclamation. In hoopskirts and crinoline you were a dainty Lede, Bade and wife and mother as the swift years Bew, ‘Your daughters rise to bless you, and you thall be thesr guide, ‘And may each ton you've mothered find a bride like you. —C. L. Edson. Got It Madge—Did you scream when he kissed you? Marjorie—Why, no, dear. late then, Cradle Song of the Modern Baby Hush-a-bye, baby, thy cradle is green. Mother's a Ph.D., father’s a dean; Sister’s a suffragist, making a noise; And brother makes bombs for the anarch- ist boys. It was too BUSINESS comicbooks.com