Judge — May 27, 1916 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

thinks she could stick it out if she had running water in the kitchen and could attach a multitude of sweeping and dusting devices to an electric light socket. The biggest joke ever per- petrated is a Big Town back a —Arthur Chapman. A Good Joke “WHILE the Presiding Elder was at dinner at my house tuther day,” related Mr. Gap Johnson, of Rumpus Ridge, Ark., “a blacksnake about six feet long came crawling across the floor. I told one of the boys to get a club and kill the varmint. Then I turned to the preacher. ‘Elder,’ says I, ‘after Blister puts the fixings to that there insect if I still see it, it’s mine. If you still sce it, it’s your’n. And if we both still see it, we'd better sign the pledge together. Uh-yaw! haw! ha The elder likes a joke as well as anybody, and we shore had a good laugh over that’n!”” Winning Out Mrs. Crawford—Why doesn’t she get a divorce if they're fighting all the time? Mrs. Crabshaw—Why should she, when she always gets the best of it? Too Late Mother—They are going to have an orchestra “Meditation from ‘Thais’” at Harold’s wedding. be beautiful? Father—Huh, it seems to me that then the time for meditation will be past. play the Won't that Love is a game, and he who cheats loses in the end. Autorst—Here's a nice fix! oe fe is giving out and we'll have . to walk home. His friend—Thank Heaven! BIG BROTHER BEN Picture by Reybarn Van Buren Verse by Charles Leroy Edson Big B Brother Ben is back again Iging with the river men, Aa nd little Bill will have his fill Of traveler's tales that make him thrill— Of timber craft and river raft, And jams and dams that drive men daft. Young Billy's pride vat reached high tide, Big Brother Ben is at his side: He swells, he gloats, he feels his oats, He's “got the other fellers’ goats”: “Come on. you guys.” the bantam cries. “That swore that you would black my eyes!” They hear him jeer: * You mamma's dear, i‘ dare you half way over here! et_your gang; who cares a hang.” ir s Bill 's bold hour to show his fa: They fear him, when, with Brother He's like a lion in his den. Moons, OONS are somethings which shine in ail sellers. The also a moon which sometimes shines in the heavens, but this moon is shamefully insignificant when compared to the moons of fiction. The heavenly moon sheds a pale, green, sickly light, while the story-book moon has a light which cannot be xcept by the free use of such phrases as effulgent glory, phosphorescent glow, rutilant splendor, and best described lambent the like. Excepting fluffy hair, a comely face and sweet lips there is nothing which creeps as far under the skin of se swains as do the beams of the celestial moon. Excepting prolix osculation, sex problems, and inane plots, there is noth- ing that makes best sellers as sickening as do their moons. Oh, writers, why not let the moon alone! Why not allow the moon in the sky to attend to its regular business of regulating the tides? If your stories were not so sloppy you would not need to create a moon to regulate their tides. beams, comicbooks.com