Judge — September 1, 1917 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

THE SNAP SHOT OF THE BABY Hisciss had put on his glasses and had unfolded his morning paper to glance over the stock market report and then get into the war news, when Spriggins came along and sat down beside him in the car with— “Morning, Higgins. Guess I'll slip in here beside you and have good company. Some morning, huh? Folks all well at your hou: That’s good. Say, got something here in my pocket I'd like to show you. For a snap shot it’s mighty good, and yet it doesn’t give you much idea of what he really looks like. We are going to have him photographed by a regular photographer soon as he is a little older. Wife thinks it might sort of stir him up to take him to the photographer when he is only ten weeks old. Wife's sister took the snap shot with her little camera. She does some pretty good work and this isn’t her best. There you are! Some baby, huh? See any re- semblance to me in him? My mother says he looks a lot like I looked at his age and, by George, when you compare it to a little picture my folks had taken of me when I was his age, there is some resemblance, especially in the lower part of the face. Of course, this is only a snap shot and it doesn’t do him justice. Wife says no photographer can do that. Women are so foolish over their babies—especially the first one. I guess they don’t make so much to do over the fifth or sixth. Notice that little ghost of a smile around his mouth. Guess he has his daddy's sense of humor and it crops out this earl cems to see something comical in being snap-shotted. The picture doesn’t give you any idea of his eyes. They are the most beautiful tint of blue, and it’s kind 0’ queer they should be so, for my wife has brownish eyes and mine, you sce, are yery much on the gray. But my sister has a baby a year old with jet-black eyes, while hers and her husband’s are both blue. They say that the eyes of dark-eyed babies sometimes change to blue later. Notice how he—what? You think you will go into the smoker? Well, I'll go with you. Maybe we can get a seat together there. I got two more snap shots of him in different positions I think you would like to see. Come on.” ‘ —Max Merryman. A Successful Marriage “How are your nephew and his bride getting along by this time?” “Finer than frog hai the Missourian. “They nigh three w still speaking!” triumphantly replied ve been married mighty ‘ks now, and, by cripes, they are Shy Young man ond ack us G Vecemmund deme nrlinelan , We were Laugh Iki bre Alip, glide hop, and lituy Ret” te [ew minut, ime bya diisatiofid reader frm Qriggt; Cateh , hd we hase net Ay Addvne co wre feta G ack him rhe he was Girrng us Be finoon , CONFESSIONS OF A PARASITE I AM a Parasite. To look at me, you would think I was prosperous and happy. But that is not so. It is but a sham. It is merely part of the great sham that is necessary to all Parasites. A parasite must constantly put up a bluff. As soon as his bluff fails him, he is lost. For the time being, I am prosperous in a material way. If I weren't, I wouldn’t be a parasite. But, alas, I don't know how long my material prosperity will continue. There’s the rub. Consequently it is impossible for me to be happy. I am liable to be discovered any minute. Then they will make short work of me. My bluff will be called and my material prosperity will be taken away from me. A Parasite’s life is not a happy one. The wise parent will choose some other career for his offspring. —Ellis O. Jones. You say you Cammot lear |s dance ANSWERS TO THE ANXIOUS comicbooks.com —_+—___., a