Judge — April 9, 1921 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

No Compliment—“Clara, who was that kept looking at me in the street car?” “Oh, that’s Dr. Burgh tendent of the insane asylu of the American Medicab Association. rt, superin- ‘Journal The Reason—Mrs. Lastery—Your prices are getting awfully high. ‘ou're charging twice as much for cleaning this pair of gloves as I paid for cleaning a dinner gown last week. The Clerk—Yes'm. Y'see, there's two gloves.—Boston Globe Arrived—A thing one should have ex pressed differently, overheard in club- land Member (to another who has just been knighted)—Aha! Hearty congratu lations, Sir . and now your wife's a lady at last.—London Chronicle The Spirit Try This on Your Retina ter (Muni One Definition—" Paw, what is an advertisement?” “An advertisement is the picture of a pretty: girl eating, wearing, holding, or driving something that somebody wants to sell." Nashville Tenm ean, The Right W and the Wrong— Irate Father—Your dilatory habits an noy me. It’s been my rule through life to be at my desk early and late. Incorrigible Son—Same with me, dad. Sometimes I get there early and some- times late.—Boston Transcript. Is Willing “Ox THE wixcs oF sonc I wit BEAR THEE Away!” —Die Muskete (Vienna). “MAN, YOURE MAD—-YOU ARE STANDING ON YOUR HE. Nor at art. TURN THE PICTURE KOUND, AND IT IS YO! Ho 18 DOING THAT.” Small Portions—James S. Sweeney, the Knights of Columbus delegate who heroically saved France's prettiest girl from death at the Folies Bergere in Paris, was discussing, at his Brooklyn home, his trip abroad. “The restaurant prices in Paris,” he said, e incredible. A simple dinner at a fashionable place costs twenty dollars, and even then it is difficult to get enough to eat. The portions— Mr. Sweeney laughed. “the portions remind me of the Scot- tish farmhand’s porridge. “*Jock,’ said this fellow’s employer, ‘there’s a fly in yer pairritch.’ “‘That disnae matter,’ replied Jock gloomily; “it'll no droon.’ “The farmer glared at him. ‘What do ye mean?’ he angrily asked. ‘That's as much as sayin’ ye haven't cnough mulk.’ “Oh,” replied Jock, still more gloom- ily, ‘there’s mair than enough for a’ the pairritch I have.’"’—Detroit Free Press. Never Again—John Clay relates the following story “T visited the old farm in Scotland, as was my custom each year, and when talking with the old Scotchman who had been a part of the farm organization since my boyhood day's, I noted that he was not wearing the big fur cap with the heavy ear-flaps which he had always worn in winter time. Where is your cap, Sandy?” Lasked. My cap, mon, why I ha na wore it sunce the accident.” “*Accident,’ I said, ‘1 had not heard of any accident.’ “Ah, yes, it was when McGregor came over an’ we were oot tagither, an’ he asked me to have a drink—an’ I dinna hear him.’ —Foresi comicbooks.com