Judge — December 17, 1921 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

Burglar—Guv'nor, I’m desprit! I want money! Weary Actor-Manager (after weeks of rehearsal)—Too weak alto- Put some pep into it! gether! See?—Passing Show then shoot! HANDICAP NECE there 3 is any such ARY—“Do you think hing as luck in busi- stortainly,” replied Mr. Dustin Stax. “Without the element of luck only the smartest men could make money, which would be distinctly unfair.”—Washing- ton Star. WuEN—Jack—What do you consider the best years of a woman’s life? Mac—Oh, the first five years she’s eighteen, I should say! — Cartoons Magazine. GUZZLES “What-all sorts of drinks d’ye have here, ma’am?” asked a freckle-necked customer in the rapid fire restaurant. “Tea, coff’, milk and four kinds o’ soup!” briskly returned Heloise, the waitress.—Boston Transcript. Her GAME—An Indiana woman went around the public golf course in 122 strokes and 97 sandburs.—South Bend Tribune. A CHANGED MAN—“You say Mr. Dub- waite is afflicted with golf?” “T do.” “Is that the proper term to us “If a man neglects -his business, his wife and children and is changed from a smiling optimist into a confirmed misanthrope by golf, wouldn’t you call it an affliction?” — Birmingham Age- Herald. ANSWERED — Teacher — What made Xenophon famous? Willie Doo—Spellin’ his name so no one could pronounce it.—Philadelphia Inquirer. Anxious TO KNow—“Sir, are you in favor of an open door policy?” “Are you a candidate?” aw, just a tramp looking for a '—Louisville Courier-Jour- small meal.”. nal. WELL To Do—“Why don’t you give that poor beggar a dime?” “He’s one of my depositors,” said the banker, briefly—Birmingham Age- Herald. Say, “Guv’nor, I’m desperate”—and (London). A Sure Cure—‘What do you do when your husband insists on driving the car too fast?” “T have a sure way to make him slow down.” “I wish I could do that. My husband is so stubborn that he drives even faster when I complain.” “Oh, I never have a bit of trouble. All I do is to whisper that a traffic officer is following us and he can’t slow down quick enough.” — /ndianapolis News. LanpED—“What did you learn at school?” the boss asked the fair young applicant for the s' j “I learned that spelling is essential to be a good stenographer.” The boss chuckled. “Good. Now let me hear you spell ‘essential.’ ” The fair girl hesitated for the frac- tion of a second. “There are three ways,” “Which do you prefer?” And she got the job—Los Angeles Times. she replied. ICA Husband—No, dear! 26 SP » aX FORGIVEN THIS TIME Mother—Now, Violet, can you give me any reason why I should not punish you for being naughty? Violet—Yes, ma. Doctor said you weren't to take any vi’lent exercise.— Toronto Telegram. INVISIBLE ForcE—You cannot see the force of advertising, but you can feel it, said Ernest C. Hastings, managing editor of the Dry Goods Economist, New York. He told a story of a conversa- tion between an advertising man and a merchant that illustrates the point. “Ever had your hat blown off?” asked the advertising man. “Yes,” said the merchant. “What blew it off?” “The wind.” “Did you ever see the wind?” ll, advertising is like the wind— an invisible force. You can’t see it u can and will see the result just s ju saw your hat go rolling down the street. And just as bending trees and flying dust are a symbol of the wind in the pictures, the stories I shall print in the newspapers about the merchan dise carried in your store will be sym- bolical of advertising force.”—Fourth Estate. Di’s Tus — We _have communicated with the spirit of Diogenes. “Ask him,” we requested the medium, “ask him if he really lived in a tub!” The table moved nervously, the me- dium snored, and from her lips came the very voice of the great Athenian: “I owned a yacht; you call it a houseboat,” said the sage. “I lived on it. The jealous yachtsman of the times call it a tub. Gimme a drink. I sz gimme—” The Voice died away, but we had solved a mystery.—Richmond Times- Dispatch. I nna Angry Wife—Are all men fools? Some are bachelors.—Weekly Telegraph.