Judge — July 14, 1917 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

DOVOUKNOW ELLA THERE §=— NOW FATHER WHAT. MAY BE SOMETHING RE YOU GETTING Watnae aeieha? RETO raE LP Humor By DON HEROLD UMOR scems to be very necessary. At least there are a lot of people working at it, and they can hardly keep up with the demand. In fact, the producers work so hard and fast that they have to slight their product some- times, and send it out from the factory before the last coat of paint is dry. Humor is used for many things. It is a great help in family life, it is handy at the office, in restaurants, hospitals, theaters, on trains, in the city and in the country. Humor should not be chewed too long, but swallowed quickly before the candy is all sucked off. There’s a little medicine in the middle of all humor. If it were not for humor, life would be all brittle. lets us bend things without breaking them. Humor is like a hinge—it lets us get through doors without smashing them down. Humor is something with which we may divert our- selves until the world gets all right. It is an antidote for consciousness. It is half hope. Now that we have fully explained and justified humor we hope that a lot of serious-minded people will take it a little more seriously. Humor LOW SPEED BITS LTHOUGH it is one of the ambitions of more than a few human beings to excel in everything, they for- get all about that spurring expression: “Take a back seat for no man!” whenever somebody invites them to ride in a machine. There’s another difference between a horse and an automobile. You can eat a horse. Let a man get settled in his first car, and started forth on his trial trip, and oftentimes you find that he has become Importance personified. — Street-cars, ropes with cows on one end, stone walls, telephone-poles id trees are expected to hustle out of his path—but do they? Too Modern She—You don't hear these good old-fashioned hymns sung any more at church, He—I guess you are right. The congregation broke down last Sunday in singing “Old Hundred.” She—What was the trouble? H. he organist tricd to rag it by fifty-fifty. playing it A Patient Man’s Protest e this war a nuisance—with their “do your bit!” 'm so tarnal busy I can’t find time to quit! First thing!—I feed the chickens, then keep the darned weeds down And when I have a chance to go, there's errands in the town. The chores about the house and farm take all the time there is; To make a decent profit you've got to stick to biz. I've got a tidy sum in bank—and mean to keep it there; For politics and all such stuff I never learned to care— Old Europe's miles and miles away across the stormy sea, I can’t think what is doing there will ever get near me. I don’t believe those flying planes can do what papers say; Just stick to your own business, has ever been my way! You mark my words: If Belgian folks had been a steady lot, They'd never had no trouble! I'm telling you what's what. If patriots won't bother me, I'll never bother them, They'd needn't come to tell me Columbia's a gem! Selling Caste for Pelf There is a small shoe-shine boy who is my friend and confidant. The other day, when a bigger and better dressed boy passed, my friend pointed him out with a disdainful thumb. “Dat boy,” he remarked, “thas gone to de bad. used to be de best shiner in de park.” “What,” I inquired, ‘tis he doing now “Gone to de bad,” my friend insisted, “learning to be a plumber.” And he Up to Date She—He stole the livery of heaven to serve the devil in. He—Livery nothing! He made his get-away in a six cylinder. comicbooks.com