Judge — April 17, 1920 — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

Cate = 7 Ome ames Mowsine Jazz “Father, how can you contemplate taking into the family & young man who drinks?” “Well, being able to drink nowadays shows that he is provident. And it won't take me long to drink up what he’s got.” Detroit Free Press. No Great Danger A Run of Luck—We noticed a dozen or more young gentlemen of the crap: shooting classes engaged in their favorite outdoor sport on a Brooklyn street corner yesterday, when suddenly a cop swooped down from nowhere upon them. In two jumps the whole outfit were halfway to the East River. The cop didn’t bother to pursue, He stooped down and scooped up the change; and as it jingled into his pocket he fa dus with a wink: “Sevencome eleven,” says he,“ and win dinner money.”"— New York Erening Sun A Conscientious Officer—" You be- long to the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, don’t you?” asked the caller. “Yes, I'm one of the officers,” replied the man at home. “Well, here’s a song I dedicated to your Society. I'd like to sing it to you.” “All right. Wait until I put the cat out of the room.”"— Yonkers Statesman. Not Likely—" What do you suppo the Martians are trying to say to u asked the man with a speculative mind. “That's a hard question to answer,” replied the citizen with a grouch, “but since the Martians are thought to be some mprovement on the human race, I don’t believe they are trying to invite us over to spend the week-end."—Birmingham Ages Herald Self-Sacrifice cldenblom fott Jensen—Ja det er or synd pad de stakkels mennenkens Jeg sendte saamen Rare ekjoler og tif dern fa fryse oe jo forfac Mrs. Jobber—Oh, my heart bi poor people of Vienna in this ch 1 have sent two of my summer bl two pairs of old silk stocking tiania) cirkeli Wie eds for the ly weather. The Exception ‘Though jazz effects my mind disturb There’s one I love to hear. ‘The coal that rattles on the curb Makes music to mine ear’ Washington Star Making Farm Life Pleasant Old Squire Brown of Hopkins town He'd show them city fellers' “ight hours a day,” and they ill feel oppressed and bellers! If they'd come down to this here town We'd show ‘em how we do it, Up with the sun and when you're done The sun has beat you to it sight hours, hey! That's half a day ; ‘d work, by gum And more besides, but dang their hides, The silly fools won't come.” Muskogee Times-Democrat e Sez, The Scattered Army I wonder where the Army is. The one L used to know The guy that found a gal of his In ev'ry town we'd go; The chap that swapped his Army clothes To get a dozen eggs. An’ that lengthy, dumb-bell feller with The arbitrerry legs! 1 wonder where the mule is at That Jimmy kep’ in trim By groomin’ with his campaign hat, An’ what’s become of him? An’ where’s “the top” and Slippery Sam An’ all the fellers now, lhe one that stole the colonel's jam An’ him that cooked the chow? An’ where is Shorty Jones today, That sung them lovin’ chants About the gal so far away When we was there in France? Oh, there is scraps of uniforms Still scattered on the street, But [ never see a buddie’s face In any that I meet I s'pose that Ikey Ipstein’s got ach feller’s last address. He’d send 'em to me, like as not, If 1 should ask, I guess; But Ikey was the chap that lent Some bokoo francs or so, An’ most of us can’t write to him hout payin’ what we owe. —Stars and Stripes comicbooks.com