Judge — June 22, 1918 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

The Counter-Offensive -| egy = SSS “Language be hanged! I can’t help it if you are a clergyman. Look what your infernal dog's doing to my early peas!”—Passing Show (London). | THE PRESS | Helping Him Out—A man stopped at a news-stand one morning who seemed to have hazy ideas of just what he wanted. He looked at stationery and he looked at playing-cards and he looked at pencils. He inquired the price of this magazine and that, and examined the post-cards and the books. The young woman who was in charge of the counter became rather wearied answering ques- tions without making a sale. At last the prospective customer asked: “Have you any fly-paper?” “Yes, sir,” was the prompt reply. “We have the Aeroplane Journal and the Aviators’ Gazette.”’—Harper’s Magazine. Baiting the Editor—An item will appear in a paper, because it is pictur- esque or suggestive prima facie, about any rather remote or special matter; say the habit of harpooning whales in the North Sea or diving for pearls in the Pacific Ocean. And somebody of strict training, or merely of strong views, fastidious about the fine shades of that special subject, will say and perhaps know that the details are wrong. He will say that at such a date or degree of lati- tude there could not have been a whale, or only to the eye of Polonius something very like a whale. Or he will say that what somebody offered as pearl was only mother of pearl, or grandmother, great aunt or remote cousin of pearl. I could not pretend, in the matter of pearls, either to omniscience or to specialism. I cannot boast like a superman that the world is my oyster, or like an expert that the oyster is my world. I cannot claim, in the matter of whales, even the narra- tive license of a fisherman. It were vain to pretend that I have drawn forth Levia- than with a hook; and if I ever at- tempted to harpoon him, he would be fully entitled to laugh at the shaking of the spear. I am enough of an agnostic to think there are more fish in the sea than ever came into net or pot; but also enough of a cynic to suspect that there are more pearls on the market than ever came out of the sea.—G. K. Chesterton in The New Witness (London). What Else Could He Do?—Said the young woman who spends a great deal of time imagining what might happen: “Suppose a fierce lion approached me from one direction, a tiger from another, and there was a rattlesnake a short dis- tance away, coiling to strike, what would you do?” “Dear me!” exclaimed the young man who calls frequently. “If there were a tall tree in the vicinity, I would certainly assist you toclimbit.”—BirminghamA ge-Herald, Outdistanced—" Love laughs at lock- smiths, you know.” “That’s an old saying and a trifle out of date.” “Ye52” “But Love certainly has the laugh on father when he tries to head off a six- cylinder elopement in a one-lung flivver.”” —New York Globe. | VANITY At the Meeting—" What's that man doing?” “Counting noses, my dear.” “Where’s my puff? I gotta dab on some powder before he counts mine.”— Courier-Journal. Pretence—" What makes that hen of yours cackle so loudly?” inquired Jenkins of his neighbor. “Why, they’ve just laid a corner-stone for the new workingmen’s club across the road, and she’s trying to make the ncigh- bors think she did it.”—Chicago Herald. Both Would Be Suited—"I wish I were an ostrich,” said Chunks angrily as he tried to eat his wife’s war-flour pud- ding. “I wish you were,” returned Mrs. “I'd get a few feathers for my London Answers. Young Husband Protests—He — Your bills are awfully heavy again this month, my dear. She—Well, the nerve of you objecting to my bills when you know it is papa who pays them. He—That’s just it! How can I have the cheek to ask him to meet any of mine when you're touching him up all the time?—Boston Transcript. Dauntless Dad “Papa? Il est dans les tranchées—a 25 métres des Boches.” “Oh! le mien en est d dix centimétres.” “Des Boches?” “Bien stir des Boches. Il garde les pris- onniers.”” “T bet you my father’s braver than yours! He's in a trench only thirty yards from the Germans.” “That's nothin’! My father’s less’n a foot from 'em.” “Less'n a foot?” “Yep. He’s guard in a prison camp.”— Le Péle-Méle (Paris). comicbooks.com ween