Judge — November 17, 1917 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

Speaking of— Thanks! By ARTEMUS WARD UTTING 66 HANKSGIVIN' T saying to—” “Speaking of Thanksgiving reminds me,” gushed the Giggly Gir!, “of what a time mother had one day last week. She did some shopping in a store which she had never visited before, and found the things perfect in price and quality. She wasn’t going right home from the store, though, and be- sides, mother never does carry bundles home when she shops, and she found out when she made her first purchase that a delivery order must amount to $3.50. You can’t imagine the time she had in making her purchases come to just $3.50. She had to change her mind about getting some things because they would have brought the total to $3.55 or $3.40. But finally she managed to make her purchase amount to $3.50. And talk about being thankful!” “But,” began the Bashful Boy, “I was saying—” “And that’s so unlike a cousin I have,” gurgled the Giggly Girl. “Cousin eis never thankful. She always sees trouble ghead. Usually she imagines she ick—one of the chronic in- valids that help doctors repair their automobiles, you know 1 remember I once asked her how she felt, saying she looked splendid. ‘Yes,’ she replied, in a weak, pained tone, just like that, ‘I know I look well, but I feel wretched be- cause I know when I get over feeling so good as I feel now I am going to feel so bad!’ No Thanks- giving for her!” Breathed the Bashful Boy. “I was say—” “And Billy, my little bit of brother,” galloped the Giggly Girl, “he thinks business men are foolish to be thankful for the success of the efliciency craze. He says it’s just a craze, and nothing more. And it goes to extremes, he told me only this morning, when I told him to wash his face and hands. These are the days of efti- ciency, he said; so why wash? Hands and faces will get dirty again, and the time we put in in washing can be used for other things. Many people don’t wash, he said; boys especially; and he is not thankful to have to—if you under- stand my jumble of words. “But I—” the Bashful Bov began “Although it is quite true that many have cause and see it, for Thanksgiving,” gidde-aped the Giggly Girl. “You know we spent last summer on a farm— s such a dear, delightful change from the shore and tke mountains to sce the funny little pigs and the chickens, abd such @ sur: prise not to get any to eat. Well, the farmer wouldn’t let us have hay rides because the hay was bringing st a geod price on acecunt of the war. And he wouldn’t let his anima!s eat it. either. He thought of a substitute food for his horses and cows, and told us when we lett for home that he was going to sell prescriptions of the substitute for twenty-five cents each, if it was successful, and if it wasn’t successful he was going to dispose of his dead animals to a fertilizing concern. So he has cause for thankfulness either way.” The Bashful Boy blushed. “I was saying—-” “We all have reason for Thanksgiving,” granted the Giggly Girl. “A friend of mine has * blurted the Bashful Boy. “I was such cause that she has a ready wit. She said an awful cute thing the other day. She and her young man were going together for fully three years, and the other day, when I met them on the street, I thought I would get sarcastic, so I asked: ‘What, you two still keeping company?’ And she replied, ‘Yes; we're married now, but we're keeping more company than we used to.’ Wasn't that great?” The Giggly Girl rearranged the opening of her shirtwaist in the low-and-behold front (it was too cold for furs) and smiled. The Bashful Boy buttoned his coat. What he had been saying went unrepeated. For which, if one regretted, the other had cause for thankfulness. Saving His Thanks Mrs. Jones—John, will you please tell me why you persist in refusing to go to Thanksgiving servi tthe church this beau- tiful Thank: ng morning? Aren't you thankful? John—Ves; but, by the time Dr. Longwind gets through telling all the things to be thankful for, I’m not thankful for anything. If you were in the trenches “over there” at Christmas time your thoughts would revert to the loved ones you left behind. You, in comfort here, should think of the boys who are’ fighting for you. Subscribe to Jupce’s Trench Christmas Fund. WHAT FOR?