Judge — November 2, 1918 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

ary) || + a UN Familiar Folks. Iy Tex Mixutes You Art No. 2. Looxixe ror a Gas Mask Fuller D. Tales By H.W. Davis Illustrated by Avpert Leverinc EWARE of Fuller D. Tales. He wants you to lend him your ears. He wants to tell you just where the battle line in France was on September 10, 1914, and on every day there- after up to last night at five o’clock when the last edition of the Daily Beacon went to press. He will do it all for nothing. Fuller D. likes to steer you into a quiet corner and inveigle you into expressing an interest in the war. If you do, you may be sure that you will hear no more out of yourself for an hour. He will have the floor and keep it. Before you realize what has happened you are off in a cloud of unpronounceable towns, numbered hills, Zeppelins, U-boats, legislative bodies, and armored tanks. Before you have caught your breath you've been in Ostend, Ypres, Fort Oglethorpe, Moscow, Palestine, Kiaouchow, Mineola, and Gallipoli. In ten minutes you are looking for a gas mask; in twenty you are mad for a club. Fuller is a knowing man. But he can not tell the difference between a modicum and a ruling passion. Therefore, away with him. He doesn’t know that conversation should be mutual, and selective. He hasn't even found out that a newspaper ought to be read in fifteen minutes and reviewed in two. Atta Boy “Have you done your Christmas shopping early?” “Yes, I’ve bought all the Liberty Bonds and War Savings Stamps I could.” Discovery “Hasn't the draft wrecked your office fore “On the contrary, I have found out ths force is more than sufficient to do the work.” ee” one-third the Winning Candor on She (sighing)—I suppose es Pas you have kissed lots of girls Sion before, haven't you? > 4 He—Yes, darling. All a preparation for you The Alternative Maud—Well, did you get the secretarial job? Ethel—No. The man said T couldn't spell, couldn't | write on the typewriter ac- curately and my stenog- raphy was a joke. “What are you going to Patriotic | He—You were going to | send back my presents, but |__ 4 they haven't been received. — Draen by Bauxspace Rockns She—No. I didn’t know but I could persuade you to feally shocked. turn them intoathrift stamp. Agnes—Don't try to deny that I saw the lieutenant kiss you—I wa Gladys—But, Agnes, he belongs to a shock regiment, you know! The Right Way | Fat Man—How shall I get the cash to pay for this Liberty Bond? “Out of your stomach.” Bureaucracy First Official—Y ou treated | that chap pretty rough! Second Official—Well, why not? He was only a civilian. In a Business Office “Does that new man we've engaged know any thing?” “Absolutely nothing. But he’s exempt.” Classified First’ Census Man—He 5 dlc has brains, is remarkably SatkadileReqine,miig| Mee brains is remarkabl ~ gifted. But he has no money and is physically unfit. How shall we classify: him? Second Census Man—As a non-essential, of course. comicbooks.com $$$ ————————