Judge — June 19, 1920 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Explicit—* Can you send a man out?” was the telephone message received at the garage. “My is on the main pike, four miles from town.” “Yes, I can send a man, but it will simplify things if you can tell me exactly what is the matter with the car.” can easily do that. The thingum- bob has jammed, thus fouling the what's-its-name.””—Louistille Courier Journal. Oh!—* Did your husband die a nat ural death?" asked the Low Necked Widow. “No,” replied the High-Browed Widow “He was motocuted.”” He was what?” demanded the Low- Necked Widow. He was motocuted,” replied the High Browed Widow. “He was killed by a motor car.” —Cincinnati Enquirer, Confusing—" You don’t believe clothes make the man, do you?” No,” replied the flustered citizen, “1 don’t, But since this overall craze started it’s hard to tell a mere dilettante from an honest working man who's in position to demand $10 or $12 a Birmingham Age- day for his services.” Herald. Some Car—“How do you like your new car?” asked the Lizzie Driver. “Great,” replied the Big Six Driver “It runs so smoothly you can’t feel it Not a bit of noise, you can’t hear it. Per fect ignition, you can’t smell a thing. And speed —why it whizzes! You can’t see it.” “Must be some car,” ventured the Lizzie Driver. “Can't feel it, can’t smell it, can’t hear it, can’t see it! How do you know it is there?” —Cincinnati En quirer. Envy—"I was arrested for speeding this morning,” said Smith “How fast were you going?” asked nes. “Forty miles an hour, the officer said,” replied Smith. “Gosh!” exclaimed Jones. “1 wish some officer would arrest me for speeding Tf I could get a statement in the papers that this old can of mine was going forty miles an hour, I might be able to sell it.” —Cincinnati E The Social Picket Point fingers? The Number—He lay by the road side, groaning and writhing with pain A policeman came up and asked him what was the matter. “Tate one—I ate one,” moaned the sufferer. The policeman was puzzled at first, but quickly grasped the situation. Poiso: he muttet have antidotes. Therefore, ii sary to discover which poison the sufferer had taken in order to administer the right antidoie, “Well, what did you eat?” gently in quired the constable. “You blithering ass,” retorted the sufferer. “I didn’t eat apything!” “Then why did you say ‘I ate one’?” “Because I-81 is the number of the motor that knocked me down, you idiot!” yelled the victim.—Toronto Mail. AIL poisons In Soviet Russia Commissary—1 must Minister of Finance—Impossible Commissary—Why 1 Mi Finance—The printing-press has broken down.—-Strix (Stockholm), 19 told you not to pick yer teeth with yer Just Like Mushrooms—* Colonel, you are considered a connoisseur of good liquor.” “So some say.” “How does one become a connois- seur?”” “It is very simple. If the liquor doesn’t kill you, it’s good.” —Louisville Courier-Journal. But Gets There—The smug reformer was dilating upor the advanteges of pro- hibition: “People can no longer say they are driven to drink,” he exclaimed. No, they row have to go by growled the man with the impressionistic nose.—Town Topics. The Pinch—"Don't you suppose,” said a member of the pofice force, “that a bobby knows a rogue when he sees him?” “No doubt,” was the reply, “but the trouble is that he does not seize a rogue when he knows him!”—London Tele graph. Oh What did you discuss at the Literary Club last night?” asked Smith. “Oh, we discussed Shakespeare and prohibition, Browning and prohibition and Emerson and prohibition,” replied Jones.—Cincinnati Enquirer.