Judge — March 30, 1918 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

LOVE - | George’s Guess—‘Oh, George,” she gurgled happily as she cuddled closer, “1 wonder how anyone could say that absence makes the heart grow fonder.” “T guess,” replied George, “that must mean the absence of a third party.”— Boston Transcript. Would Do—“I am unworthy of you,” he vowed. “You have $50,000, haven't you?” “Yes, love. “You are not so unworthy as you think,” murmured the dear girl.—Kansas City Journal. Terrible Fix—Jack—Tom, I’m in a terrible fix. I’m engaged to three girls. Tom—Well, that’s not exactly a crime. Jack—No; that’s the worst of it. If it were I could go to prison and have some peace.—Brooklyn Citizen. i Unintentionaily Prophetic?—Shce— Suppose I didn’t dress as well as I do now, would you love me just the same? Her fiancé—Certainly, dear. Why, that’s as much as to say that I won’t care for you after we are married.—Boston Transcript. Candor—Miss Uglyface—I suspect the men who have proposed to me of being after my money, and I would not marry a man who did not love me for myself alone. Miss Curlylocks—But, my dear, the age of miracles is past.—Baltimore American. “Hein! Cest au moins un aviateur—ca crache sans s'occuper sil y a du monde.” The groundling—Confound that aviator! The military authorities ought to prohibit tobacco chewing in the Aerial Corps. [ POLITICIANS | His Chief Worry—“ You scem indif- ferent to criticism in the newspapers.” “T don’t have time to keep up with it,” replied Senator Sorghum. ‘‘ You ought to see what my constituents send me direct through the mail.”—Washington Star. A Complete Job—Edith—Well, if she accepted your flowers, your bon-bons, your bracelet, your caresses, she must have accepted about everything of yours. Jack—She did; she even accepted my rival—Boston Transcript. The Proof—‘Won’t you give up smoking to please me?” “No, girlie.” “Then you don’t love me.” “Yes, I do, and here’s the proof. An- other girl wants me to give you up to please her, but I won't do that.”—Pitts- burgh Sun. Introducing an Arkansas Candi- date—I. W. Paschall, candidate for county clerk, was in town Monday inter- viewing the “dear people” regarding his candidacy. He gave us a call wearing a look indicative that all’s well with him. The knowing ones say that “Ike” is known to the children as a candy date as he carries around a pocket ful of sweets for them and often kisses them. They say he will do anything, saw wood, make fires, milk cows, etc., and he says himself he intends to marry if elected—if he can.— Lincoln Ledger. . An Ingenuous Request—Shke—Oh, Jack, dear, I’m glad you’ve come. Father is so excited and disturbed. Do go in and calm him. He—Very well. But what’s the matter with him? She—Well—er—I just told him you wanted to marry me.—Boston Transcript. Making a Mark of Him “—espéce de mal élecé!” (Shouting at the aeroplane) “Hey, you, up there! Next, time you want a target, pick out a Boche'! Le Péle-Méle (Paris). A Business—A politician who is a great walker was out enjoying his favorite recreation, says Vice-President Marshall. After going a few miles he sat down to rest. “Want a lift, mister?” asked a good- natured farmer driving that way. “Thank you,” responded the politician. “T will avail myself of your kind offer.” The two rode on in silence for a while. Presently the farmer asked: “Professional man?” “Yes,” answered the politician, who was thinking of a bill he had pending before the House. After another long pause the farmer observed: “You ain’t a lawyer, or you'd be talk- in’; you ain’t a doctor, ’cause you ain’t got a bag, and you ain’t a preacher, from the looks of you. What is your profes- sion?” “Tam a politician,” was the reply. The farmer gave a snort of disgust. “Politics ain’t no profession; politics is a business,” said he.—Argonaut.