Judge — February 26, 1921 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

Poor Outlook—‘I've had another offer, sir,” said the blonde stenographer. “And do you think of leaving me?” asked the boss “No, I guess I'll be obliged to stay. It’s an. offer of marriage.” —Yonkers Statesman Romance—He had been reading knightly romances and grew dissatistied with the present sordidness of the world. He believed it to be his duty to inject some romance into the daily grind. Ona rainy, muddy day he sallied forth to perform some knightly errand. He beheld bewitching princess about to step from her limousine upon the dirty pavement. Hastening forward, he spread his fur coat under her dainty feet. She looked at him in surprise. “Well, of all the damn fools!” she exclaimed,-Smart Set. “Isn't it per not to have A Piece of String feetly awful,” said Lallage, a little piece of string?” “It certainly is,” 1 concurred, “but just why?” “T made a lovely fluff cake this morn ing. to be sold to buy false teeth for the Senegambian half-orphans or something, and when [ went to wrap it up, I couldn't find any string. So I carried it across to Amy's, and she didn’t have any cither: Then we decided to eat it, and she phoned some of the girls to come over.” “How you rob «the half- orphans?” “Don’t be. silly They don’t need false teeth any more than I do. And Edith brought her cousin Harold, from St. Louis. He's a law student, and he’s shy and intense, like a movie hero, and the loveliest: black hair with a little curleyeue! He told me all about his mother and sisters, and how he was going to be a senator or something, and I never ta bite of that fluff cake. He was fully tense, and he’s terribly anxious could make your acquaintance. “Seems to me Harold is pretty rapid for a shy sort of person.” “How unjust you are! It was because I told him how cultured you were, and before he left— “Oh, he did, did he “He just proposed, in the most de lightfully awkward , but of course I held him off. “Stringing him along,” I suggested. The Penalty of Fame C-c-cONFOUN L “Smarty! But I feel in my bones that I shall take him, in spite of his horrible name. I blush for his ancestors- “Harold sounds pretty nifty to me.” “Don’t interrupt. And if my g children find themselves named Hog griever they needn’t blame it onto me. It will be the fault of that nasty little piece of string!”"— Union Pacific Family Bulletin. “As the Twig is Bent “Mark Tis, My Boy! Never pesrise a SHABBY EXTERIOR. YOU CAN OFTEN LIFT A PULL POCKETBOOK OUT OF A WELL-WORN coat." —Meggendorfer Blactter (Munich). Ww Pilson, the were It Had to Be Done village grocer, and his better half ona visit to their son and heir, who was captain of the school baseball team The occasion was an important game against a hated rival, and as play did not cease until late, Pilson prevailed upon his parents to stay until Monday The worthy son the next ng, (Sunday) accompanied his parents to church, where Pilson, Sr., thoroughly disgusted the congregation by joining in the singing and chants with a voice which almost drowned the organ Young Pilson furious. church he said to his father “Dad, I do hope when you come Sverybody was After was you'll sing a bit lower. grinning at you.” “It’s all right, my son; it couldn't be helped,” said Pilson, Sr., quite seriously. “You see, if I hadn’t highered my voice they’d have heard your mother.’’—Los Angeles Times. The Brute—Wifie—I don’t see why you object to my singing lessons. Per- haps some day my voice will keep the wolf from the door. Hubby—It probably will, hears it.—Boston Globe. f the wolf