Judge — February 24, 1917 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

INVULNERABLE SCT HAT feller bears what they call in stories a charmed life,” commented Mr. Gap Johnson, of Rumpus Ridge, Ark. “Why, he has acted as judge of three differ- ————y baby shows, and_hain’t never been shot in a vital spot yet!” Culture Mother—Don't you think the young folks of this day are bet- ter educated? Father —Oh, I don’t know; why not leave them as they are? Anatomically Speaking “T have come to ask you for your daughter’s hand,” said the young man timidly to her father. All right,” said the old man joyfully, come around and a‘. me to take her back. “but don’t ever Generally “Who is that young man who says he does not care to play tennis because the exercise is too violent?” “That is the boy whose father thinks that when he gets through college he ought to go out west and punch cows for a spell.” ’ When He Goes on High Gear Nan—I wonder if Mr. Longlocks is really a true poet. I know he says the odor of violets draws him irresistibly, but— | Fan—But what? Nan—But I notice it takes the bouquet of a boiled din- ner to make him come running. MY PA AN’ BILLY'S By J. A. WALDRON FUNNY MAN is Billy’s pa. He smokes a cigarette An’ wears clothes like a picture book. He is some sport, I bet! He gits up in the mornin’ late, so Billy says, an’ goes A-playin’ golf "most every day, an’ sees the swellest shows! He never has no whiskers on, an’ whistles funny tunes, An’ eats wild ducks, so Billy says, an’ never tasted prunes. I seen his hands once without gloves. They're whiter than my ma’s! ‘They ain't like hands a man should have. My pa ain't funny. No, sir-ree!_ His pipe is awful strong! He gits up ‘fore the whistle blows, an’, hustles all day long, when he gits home late he jaws an’ jaws an’ jaws! An’ if his whiskers wasn’t red he'd look like Sandy Claws! My pa is big, an’ strong, an’ wears a pair of overalls; An’ how he grunts an’ snores when ma him to his breakfast calls! He whistles every tune I know without a break or skid; An’ how I love him when he says “You are the greatest kid!” You oughta see my pa’s!- TO A WAILING THIRTY-NINER H™ birthdays are detested, in this age that worships youth, By folks who're getting on a bit, yet like to tell the truth! ongly. Why look ahead, and pine? But—we view the case quite Boast, “I’m only thirty-nine!” Don’t sigh, “I’m nearly fort, When callow days are safely past, we're really just at par— Why, birthdays are the very times to think how young you are! Mary Dickerson Donahey. Something Overlooked The man who thought of having a train going down hill generate energy to carry it up again was tearing his hair. “I wonder,” he moaned, “why I never fitted a snow- shovel attachment on my lawn-mower.” She (just engaged) —Oh, Fred! promise that you'll never let any woman come between us! comicbooks.com