Judge — April 15, 1916 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

vale of te this wilderness of woe. I asked him how he turned the trick, “Please tell me all about it, quick, for Jupce would like to know.” “TI follow certain simple rules,” said old Bill Wax, “and only fools will spurn these cules of mine; I rise each morn at 3 o'clock, and in the country take a walk, nine miles, in storm or shine. I’ve never smoked, I’ve never chewed; such practices are vain and lewd, and shorten human life; I’ve lived a bachelor, for I am sure that health and comfort fly when one secures a wife. I’ve never swal- lowed beer or gin, for when you pour such liquors in, your health you undermine; observing simple rules like these, I’m sound and healthy as you please, beneath my fig and vine.” I mused, “It is an easy thing to live a hundred y follow his advice; I'll cut out cigarettes and bee hundred years, I'll still be cutting ice.” Old Hunks has lived a hundred years, disgusting men who deal in biers, and shrouds and monuments; he still hangs on and draws his breath, and cats his grub while Father Death is swatting other gents. I sought him at his humble shack, and said, “It’s strange how high you stack, considering your age; I’d like to have you tell the truth about your system, ancient youth, for JupGe’s shining page.” The old man said, “ Doggone my eyes, I shun all kinds of exercise, I sleep ’most all the day, and when the hours of evening come I drink a demijohn of rum before I hit the hay. I do just what most f lows do; I smoke tobacco and I chew, I live on cigarettes; I've had four wives, and, still alive, I’m looking out for Number Five; I never pay my debts.”” O* WAX has lived a hundred years in this unwholesome s, by jing, Vl , and in another Remembrance “Every time you sce a pretty girl you forget that you are married,” his better-half complained bitterly. “On the other hand, my dear,” he replied sadly, “nothing brings home to me the fact with so much force.” After which the war in Europe seemed a pretty tame affair. What Little Ethel Said The grocer had just given little a banana which was accepted silently. “Well, what do you say to the nice man?” prompted the fond moth Ethel A Tip to the Young Wife “cc THE young wife will only exercise a little patience and I ingenuity,” says Dr. Anna List, the undefeated lady psychol- ogist of America, “she can easily domesticate her husband in from twelve to fifteen months. More and more am | becoming convinced that the average regenade male neogamist is not depraved, but is spoiled by over rigorous training and disci- pline. The great trouble is that the inexperienced and ambitious matron usually knows little about the psychology of the tethered male; and in her eagerness to establish her rightful sovereignty, often disregards what little she does know. “T have a young lady friend of many resplendent, dominant characteristics, who some time ago took unto herself an impres- sionistic, blue-eyed consort. Noone would doubt for a second whose is the stronger personality, and who in the process of adaptation will naturally assume the executive functions of the newly estab- lished household. But my friend is impatient and injudicious, She is rapidly driving her husband into a state of smouldering re- bellion and irregular hours. I know from private sources that he Iready engaged a younger and prettier stenographer, and that he is frequenting the clubs in a most shocking manner. “The psychological thing for my friend to do would be to allow her husband a few privileges for some time yet, gradually reducing the number of these privileges until he has none and is glad of it. Otherwise she is likely to have a rebellious and unreasonable hus- band on her hands.” H.W. Dee. Mandy, the Undisturbed OLITUDE does not make for eloquence. andy,” said Bill Ittner, the ultimate denizen of Bitter Creek, “‘where’s my razor? I need a shav Entered then Ike Kidder, the arch enemy of Bill Ittner, a bad citizen from across the range. A nine-inch bowie flashed in his hand. Bill clinched with Ike and the mountain cabin trembled to their struggle. The table was demolished, the stove collapsed, the matutinal water bucket was overturned. Finally, Bill secured the knife. As he pushed the dying Ike from its blade— “Behind the clock,” said Mandy. ‘You sure do!” Scientific Order Mr. Pessimist—What is a consulting specialist, anyhow? Mr. Optimist—Oh, he’s the big doctor that says you are going to die and tells you how to do it properly. “T thay skin it.” ~ It's all right, mister. He won't bite! He just wants to wash your face.” comicbooks.com