Judge — July 9, 1921 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

She Won, Hands Down By L. B. Birpsatt ‘THE newspapers announced it as the most brilliant function of the sea- son. The display of sartorial finery was truly gorgeous, a veritable riot of lux- urious gowns designed by the fashion masters of the world. The prodigal host had offered a sul- tan’s jewel, valued at thousands of dol- lars, to the woman adjudged to be the most beautifully gowned. In conse- quence, every fair guest had lavished a small fortune on herself. Even the judges, two blasé old social lions, were bewildered by the number of competitors and the richness of theic exhibits. They sat on a raised dais and gazed perplexedly at the gaudy array as it passed by. To choose a winner from all those dazzling beauties was not only difficult but dangerous. The last of the long line drew near and still the judges were undecided, and then—vight at the very end of the parade— came an alluring little creature in a demure frock of soft, white material. The skirt was of a conservative length and the waist revealed but a modest glimpse of a won- drously -fair and rounded throat and bosom. Every line spoke unstudied sim- plicity and unrevealed symmetry. The judges acted with one accord. Simultaneously, they descended the dais and stopped the alluring little creature. Bewildered, she permitted them to lead her up on a raised platform. One of the judges bowed obsequiously before her Drawn by Hasrton Wituiams Drawn by R. B. Fouer Tue Latest Dance. while the other proudly announced her as the prize-winner. All eyes were turned on the blushing girl. She looked around as if seeking a means of escape then spoke, in frightened tones: “It’s awfully good of you, sirs, to give me the prize, but I can’t accept it. You see I’m only the check girl in the cloak room—lI got in that parade by mistake.”” Held Up The Stork on the Job—Mrs. Multikids- Flatte live here? The Wolf at the Door—Deliver all parcels at the rear entrance. “WuerE DJ’YER GIT THEM cLIPs, Petey?” “Awl ME FATHER USED ’EM T’HOLD DE LADIES’ SKIRTS WHILE HE SHINED THEIR sHoES. He’s BOUGHT A EYE-SHADE Now!” A Modern Miracle By F. G. Merz AME NATURE overlooked Mabel Deering when she passed out the good looks. Mabel was about as plain- looking a girl as there was in the city. In fact, Mabel was so homely that she was one of the few girls who could stroll through the darkest streets at night without any fear of being molested. One day, Uncle Dan found Mabel in tears. “What’s the matter, honey,” he asked, “why all the tears?” “Oh, Uncle Dan,” sobbed Mabel, “you don’t know what it means to a girl never to have any men callers, when the young lady across the street has men callers almost every night. I’d like to have about twenty men callers some day, just so-I could make her jealous.” “Shucks,” replied Uncle Dan, “if that’s all you want, I guess I can fix that all right. Just dry your tears; I’ll have twenty young men out here to see you Sunday afternoon.” “The day of miracles has passed, Dan,” said Mabel’s father when they were alone; “how do you intend to work such an im- possible stunt. I’ve never been able to do it, not even when I offered money.” Uncle Dan only smiled. “Just wait and watch,” he replied, “and arrange a dinner for twenty.” And lo and behold, the miracle came to pass. That Sunday afternoon Mabel had no less than twenty-five young men callers, while the young lady across the street looked on in wonderment and amazement. “Shucks,” said Uncle Dan to Mabeél’s father, when the latter asked how he had worked such a mir- acle in the 20th century, “it was easy. I just called up all the automobile agen- cies in town and told them I was thinking about buy- ing a car and that my niece was going to decide on the model this afternoon.” Human Data Professor Millbank’s Wife —Aren’t you keeping more servants than usual? Professor Puttison’s Wife —Yes, but only temporar- ily. My husband wants to study as many types as possible. He’s writing a paper on “Sabotage.” Permanent Waves The wave of indignation and the wave of disillu- sionment on the sea of matrimony. icbooks.com a: