Judge — November 1, 1919 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Calling His Bluff By Tom P. Morcan ‘ C oO SLACKPUT- TER appeared before the city council last Friday night and demanded a raise in salary,” related the landlord of the Petunia tavern. “When they refused to grant it he struck, and declared that he wouldn’t represent the majesty of the law till they gave him the in- crease, and that our progressive little burg could go to the devil and the criminal element could run riot and raise hob as much as they bur- cussed pleased, as far as he was concerned. He'd stand aloof, as they call it in stories, and let the public learn how he had all these years interspersed himself, a living wall, as it were, betwixt honest people and the lawless classes, for sixty dollars a month and a few measly fees. Next day he yanked off his star and laid up his faithful club, and began loafing around the streets, waiting for the criminals to rise, now that the bulwark of the law was no longer on the job. “And when the lawless clement —the whole caboodle of ‘em, who jonally manage to get hold of too much hard cider, and once in a while do whooping, and mebby gamble for nickels now and then in the hook-and-ladder house, and hang around till all hours of the night, waiting for an excuse to go thome—struck, too, and vowed they wouldn't do any more evil till Slackputter gave up and went back to his job. They knew him and he was acquainted with their methods, and they didn’t want to go to the trouble of break- ing in a new sleuth with whom they would prob'ly have a good deal of bother before both sides got har- monized to each other. While they y off Slack hasn’t got a leg to stand on, and there doesn’t appear to be anything for him to do but to haul in his horns and resume his office. He is still holding out, but he looks more and more discour- aged every day.” considerable No Cause for a Grouch Lava, det er svaert som De ser mis Tjcnestepiken—Fruen har sagt mig sn—Gratulerer, kjaere Lava... taenk, om hun hadde gjort det samme med mig: Jeg vilde slet ikke blit mis- forniet! Master—Now dear, don't look so grumpy! Maid—The charged me! Master—Well, if she would do that to me I'm sure _ I shouldn't look grumpy about it—Narikaturen (Christ- missus has just dis- His Reluctance “I kinda hate to go home in this fix,” admitted a somewhat dilapi dated citizen of Sandy Mush, Ark. “You see, wife mended these britches for me last night, and said considerable about it while she doing so, While I was peroozing along down there in the holler a spell ago, whang went a gun, and a mess of shot like to have tore the britches plumb off’n me.I d’know who done the shooting ; some feller that was out turkey hunting, I reckon. But the main p’int is what wife will say when she has to mend these britches all over ag'in.” Indications “I didn’t mind plowing when [ was electioncering in the old days.” “Well, Congressman?” 3ut it looks like I gotta wash dishes if T ’xpect to corral the wim- men vote.” Nothing Serious “What do they mean by platonic atiection? ? “Gas burning and chair warm- ing, but no candy or trips to the theatre.” Intellectual Equals Tiens, tu_as un poisson rouge? ais pu m'habituer a la solitude. je goldfish, have you? “Yes, I never liked to live alone, Le Rire (Paris).