Judge — January 11, 1919 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

Tur Victory Two-Step ‘Teat and === Deck The Twelve General Orders for Interior Guard Duty (Adapted) Ry Senor. Weuuxctox Barve, Supply Co. sth laf. N.C. of Tezas MY general orders are: * t. To take charge of this tries to sleep 2. To walk my post in a rhythmical manner, keeping always on the alert, doing my best to avoid upturned tacks and the corners of rockers. 3. To report in a triumphant whisper all signs that the dastardly infant is beginning to succumb to the charms of my monotonous footfalls, hush- hushes and there-theres. 4. To resume my camouflage lullaby at the first sign of a reopening of hostilities. s. To quit my post only when properly relieved. 6. To receive, absorb, and put into execution all orders from the commanding officer, officer of the day, and corporal of the guard. She's one and the same. 7. To blasphe: except in line of dut 8. In case of any exigency with which I am unable to cope, to give the alarm. 9. Not to allow the kid to become such an un- adulterated nuisance as to cause the neighbors to lay down a barrage against us. to. In any case not covered by instructions to call the corporal of the guard. 11. To salute the madame, when- ever she passes, in my most gracious and endearing manner, 12. To be especially watchful at night and during the time for chal- lenging, to challenge the first outburst from the kid before it arrives, check it in its incipiency if in any way pos- sible, and, in case the possibilities be otherwise, to deliver myself up re- signedly to the ignoble task of keeping ata time when all the world should be in slumber. kid while Sal je not, and to talk to no one Thumbs Down! By Cosmesce B. Barney, U8. N Recruit—Remember last night when the skipper ordered all hands on deck? Old Sailor—Ych. Recruit—Well, 1 put my hands on deck and some son-of-a-gun stepped on ‘em. Drawn by Carr. Ro Met Private Ssitu, U.S. Is This Week's Best Soldier Joke An Awful Dilemma By Prt. deuce Avex aspen, Co. D9 MG. Bay 19 escort to he checked them up and surprise found he An officer seeing his worried look asked him by Per. A.B. Ssow, Utility Dept. Comp Devens, Mace Sergeant (to buck private)—Well, what is the first thing you will do after you are mustered out? Private—Sergeant, the first thing I will do after I get out of the army is a parade rest before Jones's bar for six months. Standing Room By P. Rewn, Co. 4, U8. N. TLS. New Maren, Conn. Instructor—If an officer and a sailor are pas- sengers on a boat should the sailor stand and salute when the officer is in view? Rookie—Y-y ir, unless it’s a canoe. ‘Home, Fritz! L Mackact, A. EF, Prance, Graman Cancer Antry, Ivpiscrertty Mounts a Carturep Saving the Pieces Hy Per. Jowrru L, Guauas, Co, D, S8th U. 8. Eng, A. ELF. France AFTER about an hour’s instruction on walking post, General Orders and the two Special Orders relating to Post No. 1, the Instructing Officer told us to get our guns. We were assigned to “posts”’ on the parade ground, given certain orders and told to act like real sentinels. Five minutes afterward another officer, sent out to test us, strolled up to Post No. 1. “Let me see your gun, O'Hara,” said he. O'Hara, unsuspecting, handed it over. The officer, after looking it over, balanced it on one hand. “Have some trouble in cleaning it, O°! “Yes, sir,” answered O'Hara. “*? It was pretty greasy when I first got it.” “see.” Then: “O'Hara, you broke your sixth general order when you let me have that gun, did you not?” vow, then, what is your seventh gencral order To talk to no one, except in line of duty, sir.” You broke that one also.”” “Yes, sir.” O'Hara, raging inwardly, turned and walked away. “O'Hara,” shouted the officer. “I did not dismiss you. Where are you going?” sir,” says O'Hara, halting, “if I stay here another minute, I’m afraid I'll break the other ten and the two specials.”” { Punch By Dave H. Hottann, Radio School, Newport, RL The officer in charge of a boxing bout on one of our war vessels called for volunteers for a second match with a former professional fighter. No one answered, so he pointed to a colored sailor, and said: “Say there, young man, won't you jump into the ring for a few rounds? These are only eight-ounce gloves.” The negro, quite surprised and with a fearful look in his eyes, replied: “Doan pick on me, boss. Dem’s might be only cight-ounce glubs—but dey am a forty-pound mitt inside of dem.” Ae comicbooks.com