Judge — September 23, 1916 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

GETTING THE VOTES Dis SLOWLY, Jim,” said the Senator. ‘Be very cautious. It is not likely that horseflesh has been introduced to the automo- 7 ve bile in this God-forsaken country and it’s up to us to make the fife introduction a pleasant one. Otherwise the consequences are likely to be f they inful—politically, as well as otherwise!” take 4 So having s Senator Jason Clingwater surveyed the desolate land- - and ke | scape. His keen eye missed no detail and overlooked nothing upon the | The best doctor on ea rth is days of country road, before, behind, oron either side. . . _ Moderation in with It was not a part of his district which he was in the habit of visiting. . : a into Ordinarily, it was not necessary for him to do so, for its inhabitants voted m . b Yyourg as their fathers had voted. But these were not ordinary times. The virus In every walk of life you will find of the direct primary was in the body politic. Every here there was the healthiest, brainiest men are nd and unrest, and in not a few places there was open mutiny and this, most Mi A , dant | Srnatically, was one of them. There had been a bitter contest in the | loderate men—just the kind of men rimaries, and this end of the district had been all for his opponent. The | bitterness had not abated. we want for customers. The rival political party, long supine and impotent, was now wide awake » 7 was making, in fact, an aggressive fight against him. Its leaders were That’s why we make the mildest, nly boasting that “they guessed this would be Jase’s last trip. ator ° Coageater set his firm lips tightly together. “They've got another guess,” mellowest, purest Whiskey on the said he, to himself, ‘but it will be a close shave, and I need every vote I market — for the Moderate man— quite ays as illings d and ion: , " can get. We ¢ got to get them, that’s all! ° = q a P ’ wile! Now they were on the main thoroughfare of the mean little village. In Wilson— Real Wilson—That’s All! far? | | front of the one store stood a horse and buggy. “Careful, now, Jim,” . ar? The Whiskey for which we invented the Non-Refillable Bottle acaimed the Senator—but all in vain, The horse gave just one loo! the approaching monster,—broke his tether, nearly uprooting the hitching- sau’ roeand was off, down the strect, dragging the buggy after him, at a FREE CLUB RECIPES—Free booklet of famous club recipes fr gait which could hardly have been livelier had he been pursued by famine, mixed drinks. Address Wilson, 315 Fifth Ave., N.Y. That's Allt aking [| pestilence and sudden death. down “Now we have done it!” groaned Senator Clingwater. “Fine vote have Till get here, I don’t think!” all!” Nevertheless, he dismounted and entered the store. By the counter stood the owner of the fugacious horse. The Senator went up to him, smilingly, extended his hand, and said: “Glad to meet you! Good day, you, my friend! I'm Senator Clingwater, you know. I am afraid I have had that? J the misfortune to frighten your horse.” at do “I'm afeered ye hev,” said the native. Pee “Jump in with me,” continued the Senator, “and we'll go find him, in serene YG P I; - coin.” Leslie's olitics The native accepted the invitation. They proceeded for some distance asonied Bel Y a > th without finding any traces of the missing animal. The native sat silent; his ou can See the stop | face was expressionless. Finally, after several abortive efforts to draw him campaign in the hing into conversation, Senator Clingwater said: “I can’t begin to tell you how pages of Leslie’s your sorry Lam for this accident. Why, I wouldn’t have had it happen for with vour own sists! anything. Of course, you understand that if we don’t find him, I shall be eves z a!” | oly too happy to pay you for the horse——” came “Dern th’ hoss!"” exclaimed the native. “Sorry, be ye? Wa-al, I Pictures that show h” hain't—not so’s ye cud notice et! W’y, say, stranger, I never reckined f'rt’ you w hat the g to see one o’ these ‘ere buzz waggins, let alone ridin’ en one on ’em, all my am - Zs that J bored days!” newspapers try ved A light broke on the Senator's countenance. The frown disappeared— to describe — the wil J be displaced by a canny look his enemies had learned to dread. political struggle Ccep As they departed from the hamlet, amid the cheers of its inhabitants, on this side of pas segtiedl ys feeanar Senator, and asked: the ocean and the Senator Clingwater grinned, a grin that was good to see. military struggle ox “Do we get the votes?” he asked. “Is there a freeborn American in on the other. ave this place, now, who can say that he never rode in a buzz wagon? These, hat Jim, are the days of the secret ballot, and the uplift, and the voter alone ¢ | with his conscience—but if I don’t get every mother’s son of them, may In this issue the story of the greatest partner of you never scare another horse!” —Albert E. Hoyt. the greatest American banker,—how J. P. > Sain Now Morgan engaged H. P. Davison and the ee I Preacker—You ought to make your husband think about religion. latter's dramatic career; the ninth in B. ob 78, “ol Ii he should die you might worry about where he had gone. C. Forbes’ remarkable series, ‘The © 7 oe * Men Who Are Making America.” eH o © 8 Mrs. Wayupp—Oh, no. I'm used to that. I don’t know where he is half the time now. Mournful Numbers Clarice—The widow is awfully selfish about taking the men’s attentions. is always looking out for Number One. Beatrice—No, dear; she is merely looking out for Number Two. $5.00 brings LESLIE’S Oe CBee . for one year. comicbooks.com