Judge — February 27, 1915 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Among the Owls ‘HE WOODS are very full of ow T Which—on my word ‘tis true Whene’er an honest stranger prowls, Hoot softly, “*Who? Who? Who?'* It is a weied, uncanny sound And gives the timid fright. They're here and there and all around; You hear them day and night! They peer with wide, unblinking eyes And watch you as you roam; But all their sage looks, to the wise, Mean just, ‘‘ Nobody home.’" My notion (hear that hooting dim?) Of nothing much todo Is to be an owl upon a limb And burble, ‘Who? Who? Who?"’ . McEtravy. Looking Backward 66 AH! HOW time flies!’ tritely but feelingly remarked J. Fuller Gloom, the practical pessim “Tt seems but yesterday that I was a spin- dle-necked young fellow and intensely proud of my personal appearance. But now, gazing through the mists of years ata faded portrait of myself, taken posing beside such an ornate chair as never existed outside of a throne room or a photograph gallery and frowning ominously in my efforts to hold my knees together, so that the sad fact that I was bow-legged might not be revealed to the world, I wonder why. “T recollect that when Sundays and holi- days came I never felt properly dressed up unless my boots were so tight that they nearly killed me. Nowadays I prefer com- And, mS aw Sethe, n fort to style, and always have a grand row with the clerk who tries to sell me shoes that are not so large that I can fold up my feet in them. Of yore I didn't care how they felt if they looked good; now I don't give a thought to their appearance if they feel good. Eh-yah! How e flies!"" Tom P. Morgan A Poultry-Yard Tragedy There was a young guinea named Skuinea, Who slept in a draft—why, the nuinea!— In the morning, of course, The poor bird was so hoarse That his cackle resembled a whuinea. “Pardon me, sir. Can I sell you my ‘ Easy Guide to Love, Courtship and Marriage '?"* A Disgraceful Orgy HEY called it a ‘‘temperance banquet’’ —but who was deceived? Just because only ‘‘soft drinks’? were supposed to be served, they had the assur- ance to designate it thus! Cravens! What did they know about machinery? The onions were pickled. The potatoes were stewed to the eyes. The coffee was in its cups. The candles were all lit up. The mince pie was groggy. Each bread plate had a bun on. Every steel knife had an edge. The cracked tumbler had had one drop too much before it was brought in. The saltcellars were full. The blooms with which the table was dec- orated had been out all night. Even the ice water was drunk before the evening was over. And the vinegar—oh, mother ! In fact, all the food and drink was on the downward road. —Strickland Gillilan, It’s Being Heard Every Day ** And what,"’ asked the curiously inclined new arrival, ‘‘is the remark made by human beings that moves you oftenest to hearty laughter?"’ Satan answered promptly, “It's the stereotyped remark of the debt- or, ‘Oh, if I ever get out of debt this time, T'll never get in again!’ ’” Full Value Received How little Anna’s changed! My, my! Full now her form which once was frail. There're those who hint behind their palms That little Anna ‘‘bought a bale’’! comicbooks.com