Judge — December 28, 1918 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

MU S IC Bawler Said Something—Bawler. admired his wife immensely and_inci- dentally hia wife's singing. At the party, when Mrs. Bawler was asked to sing “There is a Garden in my Face,” the husband glowed with pride. It didn’t matter though she had a face like that of a hippopotamus and a voice like that of an elephant. He sat beaming as she sang. When about half-way through he whispered to his neighbor: “Don't you think my wife’s got a fine voice?” “What?” said his neighbor, who was a bit deaf. “Don't you think my wife’s got a fine voice?” “What?” “Don’t you think my wife’s got a fine voice?” roared Bawler. said the other, shaking his d. “That awful woman over there is making such a frightful row I can't hear a word you say.”—London Answers. . Desperate Measures—Edith (vi ing)—I didn’t know you liked classical music, but I see you have a number of pieces. Mame—I hate it, but sometimes one has to play it in order to get a man to go home.—Kansas City Journal. A Profound Revelation—“ What's the use of having grand opera singers in the movies? Their glorious voices are lost on the public.” “Tl let you in on a_ professional “The stage is full of grand-opera sing- ers who think they can act.”—Birm: ham Age-Herald. — * A Modest Chap—“Better cut out that first song of yours. Two acts have used it already.” “Bah, I'll show ‘em how it ought to be sung,” said the vaudeville artist.— Kansas City Journal. Reincarnated—“Do you know our dog howls whenever my daughter sings?” “If there is anything in the theory of the transmigration of souls, your dog must at one time have been a musical critic.” —Baltimare American. Still Got a Chance 1d man’s truc to y"?" ar. 1 ain't been to the —Sydney Bulletin une-teller’s yet Her Ultimatum—A miner lodging at a certain house on the outskirts of a northern city has a great fondness for music. A friend called to spend an eve- ning with him, and after a varied pro- gramme of music had been gone through, and he was letting his friend out at the street door, he remarked: “Aa-m thinkin’ 0’ gettin’ a pair o° dumb-bells, Geordie; will ye cum an’ ise wi’ me?”” his was too much for the long-suffer- ing landlady. “Ye hev a pianner, a fid- dle, an’ a trumpet,” she shouted down the stairs. “* No mair musical instruments comes into this hoose.”"—London Tit-Bits. No Idle Interlude—“ What do you do to pass the time when politics has ad- journed?”’ inquired the innocent by- stander. “ My friend,” replied Senator Sorghum, “the poet has said, ‘All the world’s a stage.’ The busiest work is not’done in the public performances, but in the —Washington Star. rehearsals. A New View Point—“I'm sorry ‘I for his political views.” “T used to think well of him before I id that his opinions didn’t agree with —Detroit Free Press. Beating the Band to It—"‘So ycu don’t consider your political rival a leader?” “Well,” said Senator Sorghum, “he’s the sort of a leader our village band used to have. He had to beat time mighty carefully so as not to get out of rhythm with the men who really knew the tune.” —Washington Star. A Practical Comparison — “You don’t seem very enthusiastic about defending your leave-to-print privilege.” “No,” replied Senator Wizeguy. “I discovered long ago that two paragraphs in the papers out home were worth more than half a dozen pages in the Con- gressional Record.” —Washington Star. A Musical Feature ““[ suppose you ’ave to ‘ave an ear for mus “Goon! I don’t play it wiv me ear—I pla > play that instrument it wiv me mouth!""—Passing Show (London). comicbooks.com