Judge — October 5, 1918 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

ON THE FARM | The Horse—“Has the automobile put the horse out of business? “You wouldn't think so,” replied Far- mer Corntossel,” if you'd notice how much a load of hay is worth.” —Washington Si The New Find—“I suppose you still find old arrowheads when you plough your fields?” “Not any Corntossel. long ago but golf balls.”” more,” replied Farmer “We cleaned them all up Now we don’t find anything Washington Star. Wasted Talents—* The sadder than wasted talents. “You're right!” exclaimed Farmer Corntossel. “Think of what these mis- erable cutworms could accomplish if they’d organize as lawn mowers.”— Washington Star > is nothing Why He Sobbed—“ Shut that door! yelled the tough farmer. “Where were you brought up—in a barn? The man addressed meekly and silently complied, but the speaker, looking at hima moment later, observed that he was in tears. Going over to his victim, he apologized. “Oh, come,” he said, soothingly, “you shouldn’t take it to heart because I asked if you were brought up in a barn.” “That's it; that’s it,” sobbed the other man. “I was brought up ina barn, and it makes me homesick every time I hear an ass bray.”"—Lond on Tit-Bits. Buckwheat Diplomacy—King George and Queen Mary have sampled buckwheat cakes and maple syrup and— liked them. Every American heart warms at once. ow no German peace offensive can divide us, for we are bound together by buckwheat cakes and syrup, royal tact and courte Perhaps Mat- thew Arnold might have made us allies years ago, had he but a modicum of the King’s tact. When he came to America he was entertained in a New England family. In the morning buckwheat cakes were on the table. He had never seen them before, therefore, like a true Briton, turned them down. His wife, however, ventured to try them, and after the first taste said to him: “Do try them, my dear; they are not near so nasty as they look.” But even then, he would not. Young America is sensitive, but generous. War and King Edward’s tactful son have healed the sore. Here is a “tip” for the American farmer—double the crop of buckwheat—Wall Street Journal. The New Nobility Faut pas blaguer les ré ral ou amb ; Prohibition’s Work —* There's a lack of realism in this western play.” Why so?” “A cowboy swaggers into a saloon and calls for ginger ale.” You haven't kept up with the march of events. Some of the hardest cases in cowboy circles are drinking ginger ale now.” —Birmingham A ge-Herald. Still, Life—Photographer (to brick- layer’s wife)—The picture of your hus- band didn’t turn out very well. He moved when I took it. Wife—Ah, you should have taken it when he was at his work.—Der Brummer (Berne), Switzerland. wey SOCIETY } end —You hac e, didn’t you? time there was A Society Event—F. very fashionable audien Pianist—Yes; at or not a single person in the room who was listening.—Boston Transcript. One of the First—'She belongs to one of the first families of America.” “Why, she’s an Indian squaw. “Well?” — Louisville Courier-Journal. Culture’s Coadjutor—* What an air of well-bred repose young Newrich has.” “Yes, but he was naturally lazy to begin with.”—Boston Transcript. How He Killed the Dragon—Nobody ever mentions it since they have come into money, but there were scofling spirits in the village who had been known to aver that at one time Wellerby senior had driven a bus. If that had been so, young Wellerby had managed very suc- cessfully to banish the memory of those days from his mind. ‘There was a recep- tion at Wellerby Hall one day recently, and the young heir to the broad domain was observed to be ostentatiously show- ing off the family seal. It represented St. George and the dragon. “One of my ancestors, you know,” he observed, pompously, “is said to have killed the dragon.” “Good gracious!” said a scoffer near by. “How did he manage it? Did he—er—did he run over it?”— it-Bits. London The Last Resort in Russia Comrade—What are you doing? Bourgeois—I am trying to find out whether I could get into one of these mouse-holes. ‘There is no peace for me outside of them.—Mucha (Moscoce, late of Wars comicbooks.com