Judge — March 6, 1920 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

nity of the Court by his insolence, he goes the limit and seeks to be funny. In all my practice I have never seen such boundless—such boundless Lawyer—Sir, | was only The’ Judge—Silence! No more of this unseemly conduct We—Vhe Court is, indeed, lenient, aye, merciful. For the last time I ask the witness, what is your name? (We approach right near him and shoot a 200 watt glare into his eyes.) Lawyer (trembling and fishing in vain for his handkerchief)—My name is Thomas R. Chittystone. We (mockingly)—At last! After trying all the morning to drag this information forth the witness has finally seen fit to divulge his secret. Now that we hear the name we don’t wonder at his reluctance. Chitty- stone! Spell it, if it can be spelled. And now, gentle- men of the jury, now that you have heard this name, are not reasonable doubts stirred within you that it is I think so. It doesn’t sound like a name his name? to me. May it please the Court, I would like further time to investigate this witness. ‘There are doubts in my mind as to the legality of his name, if, indeed, it is a name. I need further time. The {idee tis granted. he lawyer grasps the rail for help, but it has not the reviving power of smelling salts, and he sinks to the floor in a faint. We—I object. I ask, Your Honor, that this be stricken from the records. It is illegal and I can give the Latin name for it and cite cases, if time is granted The Judge—Granted. Next case, Curtain Poor Luck 1 you ever run over anybody with your automobile?” Pedestrians are becoming too spry for that.” Feminisms Ry ‘Therese R. Livixestos 'M a sensitive creation With the modernest of views And 1 feel it my vocation These emotions to diffuse: On any subject | emote Which comes within my range, On pillow-slips and custard float And on the butcher's change, And buttonholes and white kid gloves, And on piano-stools; But more than all these things, my love's For dear dumb animules. Far from this cramping room I send My soul out to expand : Till it includes each four-leg’d friend In sky or sea or land, ch beast that toils beyond its share h bird caged in a house, h living thing—Help! chair? murder Where's 4 there’s a mouse! Help Greek Meets Greek “Bud Yaw, that runs the store at the crossroads, is an easy going feller,” related a citizen of Sandy Mush, Ark., “but he met his match tuther day when I was there, settin’ around Bud was stretched out on the counter, half asleep, with a bolt alico under his head, when in came a big fat drummer that ‘Howdy, Bud!” says the drum Jerry!’ grumbled Bud. ‘Say around some time when I’m stand ays the drummer. ‘I've got alittle Lay over, and TU whisper it to of he was sorter acquainted with. mer. ‘Dad-burn it, howd can’t you just as well com ing up?’ *Not necessary,’ proposition in plug tobacco. you.” Drowe by Ro B. Reatism—Tue Storm Piece