Judge — August 29, 1914 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

Applying for a Position (As oar old fricnd, The Third Reader, would have it!) By FRED S DRAMATIS. PERSONA: Harry SmitieRs, a lad. MR. CHEESECLOTH, @ great merchant. NE--The counting-room of Cheese- cloth & Poplin, linen drapers and importers of hoopskirts and French fabrics. Harry (courteously and with a slight pull of his forelock)—1 have come, please you, sir, for a situation. Mr. Cneese- CLOTH (taken aback, as it were)—How! A situation? Upon my word! And at what, my lad? Harry—At errands, sir. I have superior talents for er- rands, sir. Moth- er always said so. She said no sooner did she want an errand done than I would be gone, sir. Mr. C. (with an amused look)—Hey- day! But, my young gentleman, our er- rands are not easy quite to do. Harry (with pity, but patiently)—-But, come, sir; you are not aware that in my schoolhood I was first at the head of my class, especially when the great bell rang for recess. And now, at eleven years old, lam ready to carve out a career with no instruments save my extraordinary vir- tues and abilities. Mr. C. (his interest kindled to a lively degree)—Ah, but do you recognize the racking nerve strain a situation as errand boy enjoins, my young sir—the physical exhaustion, the utter weariness of it all? Harry (with sparkling eyes)—Oh, yes, sir, to be sure I do, sir! I must take down and put the shutters up. I must replenish your sand-shaker with ink, point the nib of your penknife with a goose- quill pen, and keep the stove at cherry red all through the summer. I must, in Sce: Bord Schaefer, a. 0.0 Rip Van Winkle—Great Scott! “PULLING THE WOOL OVER PATHER'S EYES fact, make myself of service with con- stant assiduity and whistle ever in the doing. Mr. C. (aside)—Truly, this is no or- dinary human being! Such pretty an- swers! Such dignified sentiments! (To Harry.) Well said, my fine lad! And pray tell me what remuneration you would desire in return for such priceless dili- gence, though I should caution you I have a cardiac weakness. Harry (thoughtfully) —A farthing a week, sir, I should say is ample. True, ‘tis but a mere pittance; but what more a chap could want I'm sure I can’t see. Mr. C. (rubbing his palms together in the manner of one who has found a nugget of gold or a peck of diamonds)—Done, then! And look’ee, if you do half as well as your modest words bespeak, I shall al- low you a Sunday afternoon off over and above your pay! What is your name? Harry (with honest pride)—Harry, sir! Harry Smithers, son of Old Man Smith- ers, the village drunkard. (Hangiug up his hat.) And if, sir, in the very nature of things, I save the business from ruin by poring over the books by candlelight Put me to sleep again. and become admitted to the partnership 1 will evince my disinterestedness by tak- ing your daughter Doris to wife! Mr. C. (brokenly)—This is more than I deserve! (Turning to Mr. Poptin.) Hark, thee, Poplin! Here is Harry Smithers, the lad for whom we have been unconsciously amassing a fortune. Treat him with the utmost nicety, henceforth to lean on him crutch, And as our hero quietly and with the greatest of composure begins shooting houseflies with a piece of rubber elastic, Messrs. Cheesecloth and Poplin seize each other warmly by the hand and sob as one: “Heaven be praised for Harry Smithers!"" Things We've Noticed By A, WALTER UTTING THE MOST wonderful thing—An indi- vidual opinion, The easiest thing—Blaming it on the other fellow. The hardest thing — Proving it. The softest thing—The other fellow’s job. The wisest thing—To mind your own busi- ness. The most fool- ish thing—What we said when we tried to appear bright. The sweetest thing--We married her. The wettest thing—A woman's hat with three drops of rain on it. The driest thing—Our rival’s speech. The kindest thing—Not to mention it. The most awkward thing—The knife at a dinner. The handiest thing—An alibi. A. Walter Utting, +. ». » comicbooks.com