Judge — October 30, 1920 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

When the Trouble Started—“‘ What are you little boys quarreling about, my son?” asked the father coming in the gate. ‘Why, this boy from next door said I was as homely as you, papa,” explained the young man. “Oh! And that’s what started the trouble, was it?” “No, papa, the trouble didn’t really start until I said that I wasn’t as homely as you!""—Vonkers Statesman Sonny's Crack—" Yes, son, see how papa is getting gray -haired worrying about you and your disobedience!” Observant: Son—Well, pa, then you must have been an awfully naughty boy, because grandpa’s hair is all white. Boston Globe. Each to His Proper Place—Mrs Brown was boring Mrs. Jones with won- derful tales about her Willie = wee Semi nes top of his das this week, and his father is going to take him to the zoo!” “Really,” yawned Mrs. Je sending Charles to college.’ Magazine cs. “We're Harper's Reciprocity—Willie—Pa? “es? eacher says we're here to >a — Willi help others. ?a—Of course we are. Willie—Well, what are the others here for?—Liver pool Post. Those Pencil Marks—“ Who was it saw the handwriting on the wall, Bob- by?” asked the teacher. “The landlord,” replied the boy who lives in a flat.—Boston Transcript. Score One for the Dunce—The teacher was anxious to make a good show- ing before the county superintendent, so when he asked the boy at the head of the class a question her heart was light. “Who was the mother of the great Scot- tish hero, Robert Bruce?” was the query There was no answer, so he went the rounds of the other pupi At last the teacher grew radiant with joy, for the boy who was standing at the foot held up his hand. “Well, my boy,” said the superinten- dent encouragingly, “who was she! “Please, sir, Mrs. Bruce.”—Columbus Dispatch Liked Movies— Kind Old Lady—Why are you crying, my boy? Boy—Pa fell down stairs Kind Old Lady—Well, don’t cry; he'll be all right soon. Boy—Yes, I know; but my sister saw him fall all the way, and I never saw nuthin’!""—London Answers. A Howling Success “Why 1s THE MAN STRIKING HER, Mam- ma?” “He 1sN'T STRIKING HER, PRECIOUS,” “WELL, WHY IS SHE SCREAMING, THEN?” Kasper (Stockholm) B A Maid’s Way Loose-gowned, with hair awry, She sits before the firelight gleaming— Foregoes the pleasure of the dance To spend the silent hours dreaming; From out the flames step cavaliers. Strong, handsome fellows, death de- fying. Who pledge a maid a knightly love, \ deep devotion, never dying, And womanlike, she worships them, She loves each lover’s pledge and par- le (But when it comes to theaters I notice this—she goes with Charley The cavaliers give way to one, A cowboy, handsome, young and dash- ing, Who bears the banner of Romance, With silver spurs and hardware clash- ing— An aimless rover wild and free, And truly of an humble station, But in the subtle firelight! He quite commands her adoration! She pledges him undying love, And asks as much of him; but will he? (And when it comes to dances—well, Invariably she goes with Billy!) “The fickleness of maids,” you say; Well, I admit these shifts of fancy Are womanly in every way And true of every May and Nancy; But they should not be grilled for that— It’s only just their habit, bless ’em— They'll dodge all such entanglements If I have any mind to guess ’em! For somewhere in the Lady Book Is writ this gem of woman’s diction: “The simplest sort of man in hand Is worth a dozen beaux in fiction,” Buffalo News, comicbooks.com