Judge — November 30, 1918 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

At the End of His Rope One nnrns “Gow! Che n'ai pas de feine. Che suis tombe sur un cow-boy! we “Ach Gott! I’m out of luck. Dis iss an American cowboy!"—La Baionnette (Paris) | HELP A Mick's Menu—Mistress—Can you prepare any foreign dishes, Norah? New Cook—Sure I can, mum—French pays, Spanish inyons and Oirish pitaties. —Boston Transcript. Parted—“ Don’t worry so about the cook's impudence, Maria. Don’t take any notice of her.”” “T have to; she’s just given it.”— Baltimore American. Some Borrower—Mrs. X—That old maid next door is the most brazen woman L ever knew. Mrs. ¥Y—Indeed. Mrs. N—Why only yesterday she came over to inquire if she could borrow my husband to discharge her cook.—Wash- ington Star. Rare Nerve—“I worry so over your shortcomings that my dresses no longer fit me.” “Yes, mum,” said the cook. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind giving me one or two?”—Louisville Courier- Journal. Got the Hook—Uncle Si—What be- came of that vaudeville actor chap you had workin’ on your place? Farmer Hi—Bounced him. He seemed to have the idea that farm work was a twenty-minute sketch and then a two-hour rest-up.—Washington Star. Fair Offer—Mrs. Clymer (giving a little dinner)—Oh, Julia, the maid just walked out on me! Won’t you serve? Cook (firmly)—Not in the dinin’ room! But I’ve had cafeteria experience, so if you'll line up your guests and shoot them out here with their plates, I'll sce that they get all that’s comin’ to them. —Buffalo Express. The Doubtful Dove digui: ko sents, maca? Wilson—You shan't fly until 1am sure you are genuine.—La Campana de Gracia (Barce- lona), “Tu no empendrds el col fins que jo tho [ WAR _| A Hooverite—‘“ The war has changed Tom in one way.” “How?” “A year ago, before we were married, he gave me a box of candy every time he called; now he gives me a call every- time I buy a box of candy.”—Boston Transcript. Spirit of Self-Sacrifice—" You're next, son,” said a lieutenant-doctor in a dressing station near the line. “Where'd you get it?” “Leg and a chunk somewhere in the chest.” “Out of luck.” “Out of luck nothin’. Didn’t I bay- onet three of them Germans before they got me? Eh? .. . Luck.” A hurry call to the Y. M. C. A. brought smokes, chocolate and coffee to the wounded waiting their turn with the doctors. “Here you are, sport, "said a Red Tri- angle secretary, coming into the court- yard. “Here's a cup of chocolate.”” The boy raised himself painfully on his elbow and reached for the cup, then motioned it away. “T h’ain’t hurt much and there's lots of guys here that’s messed up bad. You ain’t got enough to go ‘round.”” “T’ve got smokes and hot chocolate for every man. Go ahead.” “Honest? I don’t want to be robbing none of them birds.” “Honest.”” The boy drank and was transformed. He lay back with a cigarette between his lips, with his eyes closed, and the expres- sion on his dirty face was a reward such as few men ever earn. “That's livin’,” he said softly.— Association Men. Wood Will Win the War—Down in Ocala one of the prettiest girls in town spends the morning hours from 6 to 7:30 sawing wood, real sure enough oak wood, in the back yard. She has plenty of company to make the task not very dis- agreeable.—Thomasville Times-Enter prise. In Doubt—“Yes, my brother was slightly wounded in the Marne advance. We had a letter from the regimental surgeon.” “Where was he wounded?” “We are not quite sure. The surgeon mentioned the place, but we don’t know whether it’s an anatomical phrase or a French village.""—Boston Transcript. comicbooks.com