Judge — August 7, 1920 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

sons—Disgusted Professor—What for, Rea did you come to You are not studying. Bobby Rahrah—Well, mother says iv’s to fit me for the Presidency; Uncle Jim, to sow my wild oats; sister Helen, to get a chum for her to marry; and dad, to bankrupt the family.—Boston Transcript. No Light in Darkness—The census- taker runs up against many amusing experiences. Chief among these are the explanations some people offer for the various answers they make to questions put to them One of the census workers in Kansas City {a woman whether she could read. She answered, rather hesitatingly, that she could not, and then hastened to explain: “IT never went to school but one day and that was in the evening, and we hadn’t no light, and the teacher didn’t come.” — Harper's Magazi The Slate—When we first went to school, we had a Slate. Its frame was bound in red felt, so that it would not make a noise on the desk. In one end of this frame there was a hole, and in the hole were tied two pieces of string; from and one string dangled a slate pencil from the other a small sponge. sponge was generally stiff and dry, owing to the disinclination of the teacher to let us leave our seat ever and anon and dip the sponge into the drinking water bucket. The absence of a wet sponge irked us but little, however; when the slate became covered with writing, it could be licked clean in a very short time. If you don’t remember how a slate tastes, we can’t imagine where you were brought up. Slate pencils required sharpening only if they got all gummy, or if they broke short off. You did not sharpen them with a knife; you went outside and rubbed them on the stone step When you got a new slate pencil, it was sharpened, and it was gray in color. Half of it—from the butt end to the middle— had a glued-on wrapping of gilt paper; but the pencil usually broke off just above this wrapper, the first time you wrote with it. And it did not remain gray, but turned black very quickly. If you lost all your halves of slate pencils that you could write with, you were obliged to soak the gilt paper off the other halves. This was difficult, for the glue was of a Hacking Time t—WUHAT 1s PIANISSIMO? Professor—TUat’s WHERE THE AUDIENCE BEGINS TO covcH + (Ber- tin) very adhesive sort, and its taste was quite offensive. Perseverance and sharp teeth could only partially remove it; sticky bits clung to it forever. . . . We merely mention all this because we discovered the other day that our ten- -old boy had not only never possessed a slate but had never even seen one! It seems that modern schools consider slates unsanitary. What an idea!—Cleveland Plain Dealer How He Benefited—You may have heard of me—I am Doctor Bragby,” the pompous gentleman announced in the smoking compartment “Ah, then I have the opportunity to hank you for what you did for me,” the quiet young fellow responded. “I have benefited greatly by your treatment.” “Why—er—were you a patient of mine? Though, of course, I couldn't pos- sibly remember all— “Oh, no; not I. But my uncle was, and I was his heir.” —Town Topics. The Absent-Minded Beggar—The champion absent-minded man lives in the Black Country. On one occasion he called upon his friend, a football club phy- sician, and after a chat of a couple of hours the doctor saw him to the door, and bade him good-night, saying: Tome again. Club still going on ell right, I suppose: “Good gracious!” exclaimed the ab- sent-minded beggar, “that reminds me of my errand. Our goalkeeper is in a fit!” — London Telegraph. Berried Alive Self-Important Swanson (looking at melons) coop WoMAN? Market Woman (never without an answeer)—I OUR GooseBeRRies.—Kaspar (Stockholm) 23 ? - ~ Ty Meg WHAT'S THE PRICE OF YOUR SMALL APPLES, MY SEE YOU ARE A FOREIGNER, AND DO NOT KNOW comicbooks.com