Judge — October 18, 1919 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Definitions Satire. A telltale sunbeam Mirth’s looking glass Flasht with impartial glee on all who pass. Wit Bright but ephemeral imper- tinence; Spark-showers about the forge of common sense: Humor. A rainbow beauty, iridescent, warm, Which lurks in tears, and spans the blackest storm. His Plan By Tow P. Morcan from “TF I had my way,” gloomily said the landlord of the Petunia tavern, as he glared across at the prominent and in- fluential loafers lopping on the benches in the courthouse square, “at least once a year I'd compel every knocker, kicker, Drawn by Dox Henorn Mrs. Lollingwell Lobb has had installed in her bed- chamber a series of electric bells which enables her to check up on her husband as he gves about his nightly chores. If he neglects one or another of them, Mrs. Lobb, when he comes upstairs, sends him down again forthwith’to attend to it properly. How would you like to be Mr. Lobb? me an inclosed flivver. Unde denounces everything that has happened since he was young, to take a trip and visit several other towns of about this size. I figger that when they had done so they would all come back with enough new things to kick about to make them for a spell interest- ing to listen to by a feller who hadn’t anything else in the world todo but waste his time.” Rural Finance “T sce Hickville is going to consolidate with Plunktown.” “That's what.” “But you're ten miles apart.” “We want to collect a few auto fines. Motorists used to scoot through. Before we could hail ’em in one town they were in the next.” Elusive Lizzie Uncle Eben—I just had a let- ter from an automobile fellow saying as how he wants to sell backbiter, benchwarmer, mossgrower and public business- minder, who sets around day after day and criticizes the town and his neighbors, discourages progress, kills the fruit, and ‘ra—Are ye goin’ to buy it? Uncle Eben—I dunno. I got the letter all right, but there warn’t no flivver inclosed. Hl i MEU \ ial Drawn by Cuzsten 1, She—But my dear, we won't have room for any coat. He—Oh, hang the coal! This will keep us just as warm. 1s