Judge — August 23, 1919 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

ves are a trifle overdone, it is the fault of the gas stove!” “Gas stove, indeed, vith withering sarcasm; ne when I pointed out that running a gas stove © cook a meal and running a foundry cupola o melt pig iron are two different things, this vouldn’t have happened. To me, the control of a gas stove is simplicity itself. You merely exercise a trifling measure of judicious super. vision, and tum off the gas when the things are ne, But you would have your own way! Happily, there is still a pie, which we may ven ture to hope But as he caught a whiff of the scented gale, he stopped short, fear clutch ag at his heartstrings. “Henry,” asked Mrs. Grimley in a voice like the breaking off of a chunk of ice from a glacier: what is it that T smell?” They must be having pancakes and baked apples next door,” he answered, but his tone lacked conviction “Henry,” said Mrs. Grimley verity, “when T burned my upstairs to fix it, did I not tell you plainly to atch the pic? Did [not tell you to be sure nd turn off the gas the instant it got brown on i? It's the piel” “Holy Jerusalem!” ejaculated the conscience sticken Grimley, bounding from his seat and making for the kitchen “Oh, there’s no hurry now,” called out Mrs. Grimley, bitterly, “three or four hours more won't make the slightest difference,” followed him at her leisure Apparently, the blessing of heaven had not rested on his efforts at rescue, for the pie still smoldered in its cavern and he was sucking a blistered finger. commented Grimley if you had listened to with growing nd and went and she Drown ty Wy. Maven The Oroner—Make ‘em laueh, Jim, so they don’t “Tt seems @ trifle scorched,” he muttered, as well as the impeding finger would let him, his eyes had the pathetic appeal of an animal in a trap “A trifle scorched!” cried the lady the help of thespoker and a couple of towels she hauled the smoking mass from the oven and laid it on the table. “A trifle scorched! AIL T can say is that anyone who would run a gas undry cupola, without ex ercising a measureof judicious supervision ——" But Grimley interrupted her. “My dear,” he said, momentarily removing his finger from his mouth, “what you say may be true, but it’s damned monotonous. If instead of parodying my remarks you will note how aptly this littk theory, and will as with stove as you would a contretemps illustrates my take the lesson to heart “T shall advertise for a girl to-morrow,” de cided Mrs. Grimley; “meanwhile lettuce ‘which will aptly illustrate your other about the dinner of herbs.” observed Grimley there is some theory “In which connection “LT beg you will note that the success of the meal is conditioned upon the absence of contention.” “You began it!” stid Mrs Grimley “But now [ drop it.” retorted Grimley, as they returned to the unfestive board, now coldly blooming with lettuce. “It merely remains to add that while one amateur cook may equal a professional, two are the devil! Pass the oil and vinegar.” “And the cayenne?” inquired Mrs. Grimley. “God forbid!” replied Grimley It’s too suggestive. On the Liner “Who is that awfully sea. “He is a writer of sea stories.” Tue H.C. oF L. BY The Almost Perfect Girl By Dovetass Matrocu ER cheeks are like the red, red rose Her eyes are like the dawn, Her heavenly brows the fairest snows Light ever shone upon. Her teeth are like twin rows of pearl To charm the heart of man I know that I could love that girl But she says “different than.” She has a form like Venus had Each line a line of grace, \ form to make an artist glad, As perfect as her face And yet she'll never steal away This heart of mine—because So many times I’ve heard her sa “He don’t” or else “you was. She has a voice like music—she Delights the eye and ear; There is no mortal melody Phat I would rather hear. Alas, one fault the music mars: I like her voice—and yet Upon my consciousness she jz When she says “git” Looking Backward At an army mess for officers a First ot was served with two fried eggs. As the eggs were a light green color and smelled musty he called the mess sergeant and said, “Sergeant, 1 would like to see the cook who fried these eggs, immediately.” Sorry, sir,” answered’the M.S. discharged three months ago.” “but he was notice the prices comicbooks.com