Judge — July 19, 1919 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Drow. ty Pact Renty “On, Rupert! A Baleful By Tom P. “ | NOR them that like that kind of things some of these "ere new-fangled knick-knacks prob'ly are exactly the You've Upset tir Innovation Morcan kind of things they like,” admitted the landlord of the Petunia tavern, “but when indulged in to excess in a first class hotel they sure raise hob. I had been thinking for quite a spell thet mebby it would be a good idy to have music at meal times. So finally I got on trial a phonograph and a mess of late and popular records. I instigated the utensil into the din: ing-room, wound it up, and when several of the guests had got seated, put on a record and pulled the trigger. The piece was one of them stuttering, jibbering, hypercanooverous jazz tunes, and I kinda thought the tripping, ripping mellerdy might sorter speed up Sylphie, the hefty waitress, who in a general way is as slow as an ice wagon, although she has a good heart Also, it done so! he entertainment started just Sylphie came into the dining-room, and when the tune resounded on her ears she became a new woman. The way she rattled off, ‘Roas’ beef, roas’ pork, ham, lamb and bacon! Apple pie, peach pie, punk’ pie and pudd’n"!’ in unison with the strains of *Ricka-tiddylick-split-rip-chick-a-shing!’ was enough to have melted a heart of stone. So great is the power of music that as she slam- banged the menu off that-a-way she reened and underlated around the festal board till the house shook as with the ague. The gent at that particular table was an old feller and considerable deaf “What say?’ he asked, with his hand She scarified it all off again ‘Thank you,’ says he, politely, for he was that kind of an old gent, ‘but what are you serving for dinner?’ “But by that time, fired to a frenzy by the music, Sylphie had gone riggerjigger as ca- to his ear. Goup-risu!” racktacking off to the next table. The guest there was sort of a cuss, I reckon. “Tenny-rate, he hopped up and bowed to Sylphie, and she grabbed him. Away they went around the room like a chariot race. Sylphie humming the tune like mad and the guest yelling the words, some of which he ‘peared to know. Some of the other guests scemed to approve, and some didn't. 1 didn't, myself, but 1 realized that there wasn’t anything to say to Sylphie. She weighs two hundred and sixty pounds, or such a matter, and acquired the art of wait ing table on a boarding car for a railroad construction gang, and you've got to recog nize that she’s a lady at all time and places, or you'll wish you had. “So all in heaven’s name I could do was to yank off that jazz record and put on - long-drawn, mizzable bagpipe selection that sounded like the last tingering moans of a dying maniac, whereupon Sylphie ca’med down with a crash and sank onto the lap of the deaf old gent by mistake, of course ‘Very nice,’ says he, gallant to the last ‘but, if you don’t mind, I prefer something to eat.’ “Well, you betcha, I took that there infernal plaything right back where I got it, and it is going to stay there, too, as far as 1 am constitutionally concerned!"" Enough “Are you getting enough of the food?” “Just about,” the summer boarder somewhat ambiguously replied. Well, Well “Here's a queer congressman.”” “What's the matter with him?” “Wants to cut down the franking privilege so the govern- ment can pay better wages to humble employees.” Ss OO Sad pa — Ah Drones by WK. Stamaerr A Berrer Unperstanpinc Between Caprrat ann Lasor comicbooks.com