Judge — January 10, 1920 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

The Way of the Wolf the editor in a loud voice. ‘If there's anyone ‘round here who objects to The Clarion’s stand for truth, justice and liberty, T want to know it!’ "—Los Ingeles Times. Well, What Was 1t?—Mrs. John Ray was operated on at Brightlook hospital last week and is doing nicely, her opera tion is the first one of the kind. —St Johnsbury (Vt.) Caledonian. A Sad, Sad Case so busy that we don't have time to knock anybody, and the whole day scems lost —Ohio State Journal. Oiten now we are An Alarming Symptom—* There's something wrong with our girl reporter.”” “How so?” She positively refuses to loop the loop in an airplane.” “Well, welll” “LT fear the morale of our reportorial staff is not what it ought to be.”—Bir- mingham Age- Herald Some Diplomat—Henry Watterson believes that if one has opinions they are worth sticking up for, and that the editor who has no backbone is no editor at all. He says: “T despise a chap like Stewart, who used to run a dinky paper in a dinky town near Louisville. One day the office boy tiptoed into his private office and said: “ «Mr. Stewart, there’s a man outside says he’s got to see you.” ‘What does he look like?’ asked Stewart as he prepared to make a hasty exit through the back door, Hass “ ‘He's a little man, sir, a litt ‘ “*Show him in! Show him in,’ cried y'know wz Yes, I get rid of a lot of these cigars during the year—giving ‘em to my friends, Forewarned—An old darky minister announced that he had invented an auto- matic collection basket, which would be passed around by the deacons of his church, t is so arranged, my breth- ren,” said he, “dat if you drop a quatah or half dollah, it falls noiselessly on a red plush cushion; if you drop in a nickel, it will ring a bell dat can indistinctually be heard by de entiah congregation; but if you let fall a button, my brethren, it will fiah off a_ pistol."—Putsburgh Press. Too Proud to Write—In the course of his examination these questions were put to an old negro who was appearing as a witness: “What is your name?” “Calhoun Clay, sah.” an you sign your name?” Sah?” “Task if you can write your name?” “Well, no sah. Ah nebber writed mah name. Ah dictates it, sah.”—St. Louis Republican. They Were “Grand” Ones, Too— “Sorry, ma’am,” said our colored laun- drylady, returning the week's wash, “but Ah done mislaid yo’ husband's jan- drums.""—Boston Transcript A Social Catapult Get rid of a lot of friends, too, don’t you?—London Opinion