Judge — December 18, 1920 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

Faint Praise—* What do vou think of my slogan, ‘Home Cooking’?” asked the restaurant man “TL think it’s safe enough,” replied the grouch. “Huh?” “T’ve seen some home cooking which was worse than this.”"— Detroit Free Press Gentle Hint——When Tommy went visiting, his first interest was the kitchen and what it was likely to produce. One day when he was visiting his grand- mother, he found her in the kitchen busy over the stove. “What do you think I’m doing?” she asked. Tommy shook his head and hoped hard. “Tm going to make you a nice little pie in a saucer all to yourself,” said the old lady. “Don’t you think I’m good to take all that troubl “Ye-es, grandma,” replied Tommy doubtfully. “Of course it’s awful good of you. But mother told me not to bea bother, so I was just thinking that if it’s ying to be any trouble, p’raps you'd better make my pie the reg’lar size.”” Los Angeles Times Diagnosis—The telephone rang and the bookkeeper answered it. “Yes, madam, this is Wilkins’s mar- ket.”” “This is Mrs. Blank. I want you to know that the liver you sent me is most unsatisfactory. It is not calf’s liver at all; calf’s liver is tender and—' “Just a moment, madam, and I'll call the proprictor.”” “What is it?” Wilkins asked. The bookkeeper surrendered the phone. “Mrs. Blank,” he said. “Liver com- plaint.”—Boston Transcript. Scere. You are sarnicp. You Love your uuspanp. But I see a DARK WOMAN TWEEN YOU—SHE FOLLOWS YOUR UUS- BAND EVERYWHERE “Heaven were wer! vostman.”—Karikaturen My HUSBAND 18 A Christiania). Why She Changed—Mrs. Exe—You used to delight so in doing your own mar keting that I’m surprised to find you or dering over the phe Mrs. Wye—My dear, I couldn’t bear any longer to see how little I was getting Boston Transcript. ne for my money. A Hopeless Case “Tuey CALL ME Inte, BUT I CAN'T WORK WITHOUT SMOKING—AND_ MY DOCTOR HAS FORBIDDEN ME TO SMOKE.” —Fliegende Blact- ter (Munich. 1s s—"1 say, I'm in a fix with my id young Dubb, disconsolatel “Why,” replied his sympathetic friend, “what’s the matter, my boy? Have a , it isn’t that. You see, I’ve been saying so many nice things to her that she’s getting conceited. I can’t stop it and IL can’t keep it up.” “Can't, ch? Why not?” “Well, you sce, if L keep on she'll begin to think she’s too good for me, and if I stop she'll think I don’t care for her any more.”"—Boston Globe. As Usual—“When Cholly Van Rox proposed to me, he was too rattled to say a word.” “Then, how did you know he was pro posing?” “Oh, my dear, his money did all the talking.” —Boston Transcript. Too Much Poetic License—Yester day everything had been happy. To night they sat at the extreme end of the sofa, in unbroken silence. Harold could not fathom the cause. Had he not written a poem in her honor? “Mr. Holt,” said Ethel at length, “do you know that the feet of the Statue of Liberty, in New York harbor, measure 16 feet 5 inche So I have heard.” ‘aist is 35 feet round,” she con- tinued, giving him an icy stare. “The nose is 4 feet 6 inches long; the mouth is a yard across, the thickness of the head is 10 fect. Did you know these facts?” “yes. hen will you kindly explain,” she demanded _ frigid! why you state in your poem that I remind you of the Statue of Liberty?"— Houston Post.