Judge — February 26, 1921 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Drawn by W. G. Staunerr t+ A.¢ Jones wisies Now ue HAD ENGAGED Mis TAXE BY THE bay Why I Left Home By Joseru P. Haxranan HIS is the whole truth, and nothing but the truth First of all, John, my son, was eight months old, and although he had not yet written a novel, his behavior under the circumstances was, in this age of miraculous infancy, superlatively contemptible. My wife, John and L had moved into new apartments the day previously. It had taken me ninety-six days to locate and secure the new apartments. There were, moreover, quite so many provisos to our tenure as there are quills on a porcupine. Of course there was to be no noise. John’s mother went downtown to shop. As I remember it, her parting adjuration was that I give John his bottle at three; to walk him if he were to become restive; and on no account should he be permitted to ery and disturb the neighbors. John, at the time, lay in his cradle reflectively chewing his great toc He gurgled an adieu to his lawful mother, and once she had gone, turned his gaze upon me. It was a chilling, dispassion- ately appraising look that my son gave me, and I knew forth- with that the afternoon would be sinister. With a yell that re-echoed to Saturn, John immediately opened hostilities. I took him out of the cradle and said “Goo Goo!” I cockadoodledoed to John. I perched him on my shoulder and walked him. [ walked him slowly at first, and then faster, progressing gradually from a trot into a healthy gallop. Round and round the dining-table, and in and about the chairs I coursed with John, while John roared A lady knocked at the door to inform me excitedly that her aunt in the apartment below was having the ‘tic douloureux,” and to ask if L would be so good as to make less noise. In the alternative, she said, things might go disastrously with Auntie. I made all possible apologies, put my tempestuous son back in the cradle and gave him his bottle. John treated the bottle with indignity and was now bellowing like a bull in the field. A male person from upstairs looked in to inquire caustically. “What the blue blazes was coming off.” in took John out of the cradle and placed him on the I dropped to my hands and knees beside him and crawl ing around the room all-four-wise, baa'd like a sheep. John stormed. I gave him the family Bible, my w cards, and was in the last desperate endeavor ¢ the dinner plates for demolishment, when the Landlord entered. With bowed head I received thirty days’ notice to vacate. But that settled it. [ pulled open a bureau-drawer and plumped John into it with mighty little ceremony. Then I closed the drawer. Faint sounds not unlike those given forth by a musical top as it is about to collapse, issued from the key hole, and then a heavenly peace prevailed My wife returned from shopping and flew to the cradle “Where's the baby?” she gasped Silently I opened the bureau drawer. reflectively chewing his great toe. This apologia is inscribed to all happy bachelors, for Lam a divorced man today with a local reputation for wife-beating. John, within, was