Judge — May 2, 1914 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

WRIGLEYS a perfect humidor.” “TI keep my cigars perfect in an air-tight box. This beneficial tidbit is kept perfect with an air-tight seal.’’ Keep this always fresh, delicious, beneficial tidbit always handy. Give pleasant, regular aid to your teeth, breath, appe- tite, digestion. IT BY THE BOX for 85 cents—at most dealers. Each box contains twenty 5 cent packages. They stay fresh until used. CHEW IT AFTER EVERY MEAL It’s clean, pure, healthful if it’s WRIGLEY’S. For Liquor and Drug Users A scientific treatment which has been successfully administered in half a million cases during the past thirty-four years, and the one treatment which has stood the severe test of time. “Administered by medical experts, at the Keeley Institutes only. For full particulars write To the Following Keeley Institutes: Greeasbore. 8. C ru Colnmban, Oblo. ‘Odiabeme City. Obte., 919 8. Stiles Su. PrandieenC Patiedeiptia. Pay beg t= Bide. 812 5, Breed St. Parlor Melodrama COBSCAR ROGERS, a tall, fuzzy-neckeg young man with mild, bronze fea. tures, stood with folded arms and gaze] violently at June Wainright, a smali dried-up young lady, weighing about ninety-five pounds gross. Oscar was very mad, and with phono. graphic tones hissed these words through his two large front squirrel teeth: “You, June Wainright, by your femj. nine infidelity, have, so to speak, shat. tered my windshield of confidence, pune. tured my tires of ambiti bent my axles of hope and killed my engine of love, with your clandestine maneuvers with Hely Cain, the veterinary surgeon. And the whole world must know of it, even if | have to advertise it on the want page. ] am now about to leave this parlor for. ever, never again to sit on your divan or listen to your canary bird.”’ After these husky utterances had died away, Oscar, with cool deliberation, re. moved a toothpick from his mouth and put it back into his vest pocket with the other matches, June Wainright swayed buck and forth with emotion, and then burst into nearly a hundred tears. Though she was very brave, she broke down and rewept, this time with her head buried in the hem- stitched sofa pillow. It was all more than she could bear. Oscar, who had moved up close to the stove to dry his tears, now stood with his hand on the white and silent doorknob, “Let’s see,” said he, pulling out his frank, open-faced watch; ‘‘the next train goes at three-eight to-morrow after- noon.'’’ Then, rewinding his timepiece, he replaced it in his pocket and drew out a half-smoked cigarette and relit it, after which he passed out the door, closed it softly and hurried away, helter-skelter, on his new bicycle. After the cigarette smoke had cleared away, June Wainright fixed her hair be- hind, and then threw herself on the piano stool and sang violently. —George Bingham. His Indifference “I observe,’’ remarked Morbid Tall- boys, ‘‘that a young lady is going deep into the dingles of the Maine woods next summer and remain there a month, clad only in E pluribus unum. Very likely there will be excursion rates from as far away as Snuffles, Missouri; but I do not expect to take advantage of the oppor- tunity. No doubt there will be enough other equally unimportant things going on at that time to take and hold my at- tention.’’ The Proper Term “What's that?’ cried the new doctor in the mining camp. ‘‘You say you have ‘shooting pains’ in your back. Why, you're wounded, man!’* “That's what I said—‘ shooting pains, said Piute Pete. In answering advertisements please mention JUDGE. It will be appreciated. comicbooks.com eKworean sama eS Mewar oOn i> ee ae