Judge — December 17, 1921 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

\ atv An: Mr. Jones—Mary has cooked this steak too much again—didn’t you reprimand her about it last week? Mrs. Jones—Yes, dear, but you're two girls late—the present cook’s name is Florence!—Passing Show (London). THE APPLAUSE Was DEAFENING—The trap drummer in the jazz orchestra had been hitting the hootch. He had set his music stand within reach, but it started to fall. He reached for it and it upset and hit the bass drum. The drum rolled over, dropping the crash cymbal, and upset the xylophone, and the xylophone knocked over the cow- bell. In reaching for the xylophone the drummer’s feet slipped and he sat down on the baby squawker and the wood block fell with a loud crash on the tympani. “What wonderful music,” gurgled the jazz jane. “This orchestra certainly keeps right up to date on all the new stuff.’—Medicine Lodge Index. is) 3 to) IN THE NURSERY “Willie!” “Yes, Mamma.” “What in the world are you pinch- ing baby for? Let him alone!” “Aw, I ain’t doin’ nothin’! We're only playin’ automobile, an’ he’s th’ horn!”—Louisville Courier-Journal. Same Motions—“It has ays been a great mystery to me,” re ked the Observer of Events and Things, “why it never tires a man to play a fiddle all day, but wears him out so quickly when he attempts to cut a little wood.” —Yonkers Statesman, Don’t Give THEM A CHANCE—“They have a new phonograph.” “All right. Let’s stay away until the novelty has worn off.”—Detroit Free Press. A Musica, Expert—“A” Operator— “Has Marjorie any education along musical lines? “B” QOperator—I_ should say so! Name any record and she can tell you what’s on the other side!—Telephone Review. AN OBSERVATION—Man has conquered the air. The young lady at the piano next door hasn’t.—Detroit News. A Stony PARENT — Diner — Here, waiter, take these eggs away. They're as hard as rocks. Waiter—Sorry, but they are as soft as we can cook them. They were laid by a Plymouth Rock hen.—Farm Life. ExPeRT—“That man has dined in this restaurant every day for over a year, and has never failed to fold up his nap- kin each time when he is through eat- ing,” said the waiter in a down-town restaurant. “Still he knows that as soon as he-leaves I throw the napkin into the laundry. He just wastes his energy.” “Who is the man?” “His name is Johnson. He’s an efficiency expert.”—New York Sun. Yes—Wuat?—A writer says chop suey is not what it used to be. He will now confer a great favor Ly telling us what it used to be—New York Morn- ing Telegraph. “No, I don’t. CAUSED ’EM TO HESITATE “Well, Mose, how’d the races come out yesterday?” “Putty good, suh, putty good; on’y some fool drapped a bag o’ oats on de track an’ all de hosses hesitated.”— Richmond Times-Dispatch. THE PRACTICAL WAITER—A certain Barber County man was in Topeka several years ago and when dinner was served at one of the hotels roasting ears were on the menu. He is ex- tremely fond of corn in this style and he ordered some. The corn was fine. He gave the colored waiter an order for some more. This was very quickly disposed of and the waiter “repeated.” This happened five times before the hungry man was satisfied. As he com- pleted his dinner with a glass of water, he was at peace with all the world and turning to the waiter he remarked: “What do you think of that kind of a dinner?” The waiter grinned and re- marked, “Well, suh, boss, this yeah is the highest priced hotel in Kansas— don’t you think you'll could save some money by boardin’ at a livery bahn?”— Medicine Lodge Index. THE Jazz CouRSE—“Waiter.” “Yes, sir.” “T’ll have some of this.” “You are having it now, sir.” “ph?” “The orchestra’s playing it.”—. mingham Age-Herald. DAYS OF FRIENDSHIP Past—Mistress —When I engaged you, Susan, you told me that you had no man friends. Now, almost every time I come into the kitchen I find a man there. Susan—Bless you, mum, he ain’t no friend of mine! “Then who is he?” “My husband.”—Boston Transcript. AAARARA a ZB “So you desire to become my son-in-law?” But if I marry your daughter, sir, I don’t very well see how I can get out of it."—Weekly Telegraph.