Judge — January 7, 1922 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

IR AUCKLAND GEDDES said at a dinner in Dark Harbor: “Little nations sometimes exercise a certain pardonable duplicity in getting favors from big nations. This may be wrong, but it is certainly politic.. Little nations can’t use force, you know. “In the Mile End Road one eve-— ning a little fellow began to bawl and scream. “Oh, me farden! I’ve lost me brite farden!’ A group of young costers were loaf- ing nearby, and one of them said: “Ere, mates, let’s ’elp this pore kid find ‘is farden.’ “So, in the goodness of their hearts, they all began to search laboriously, while the urchin continued to bawl: “*Oh, me farden! Me brite farden!’ “In a minute or two one of the costers found the lost coin. “© Ere’s yer fardin, kid,’ he said, and “Anything to see in this town?” in- quired a recently arrived guest. “Well,” replied the landlord of the tavern at Oblong Center, “a lady bar- ber has just opened up a shop in the next block. You might kinda ramble “around and—” “T have seen lady barbers before.” “I s’pose so. But prob’ly you never - saw how the male population of a vil- lage act when they see a lady barber.” —Kansas City Star. then a ray from the street lamp fell on j “ it and he yelled: ‘W’y, it ain’t a farden at all. It’s ’arf a quid!” “*‘Garn!’ said the boy, as he snatched his money. ‘Think I was goin’ to let you blokes know it was a ten-shilling piece? Why, one o’ ye would ’a ’ad ‘is foot on it afore I’d time ter turn round.’ “And he ran off with his valuable ‘farden’ like a streak of lightuing.”— Detroit Free Press. When Freddy came home from school he was crying. “Teacher whipped me because I was the only one who could answer a question she asked the class,” he wailed. Freddy’s mother was both astounded and angry. “I'll see the teacher about that! What was the question she asked you?” “She wanted to know who put the glue in her ink bottle.”— Boston Herald. Sailor Bill—These New York gals seem to be wearin’ sort o’ light canvas. Sailor Dan—Yes—you seldom see a full rigged skirt, or anything—New York Sun. “I think the baby is going to be a dancer.” “Why so?” “She keeps examining her toes.”— Louisville Courier-Journal. Motorist—Fifteen hundred miles and never had to use aspanner! Worth 750 pounds as it stands. What’ll you give me for it? Friend—Prepare for a shock, old man! I'll give you fifty pounds. Motorist—Prepare for another—I’ll take it!—Passing Show (London). The following recently appeared in a Chicago newspaper’s advertising columns: “If Wilbur Blank, who deserted his wife and babe twenty years ago, will return, said babe will knock his block off.” American Legion Weekly. Church—Did you ever see a woman who could keep her mouth closed? Gotham—Sure! I gave my seat in a trolley car to a woman to-day. She never opened her mouth.—Brooklyn Citizen. Digest of the World’s Humor The wife of the great botanist beamed at him across the supper table. “But these,” she exclaimed, pointing to the dish of mushrooms that had been set before her, “are not all for me, Aristotle, are they?” “Yes, Mabel,” he nodded. “I gath- ered them especially for you with my own hands.” She beamed upon him gratefully. What a dear, unselfish husband he was! In five minutes she had demolished the lot. At breakfast the next morning he greeted her anxiously. “Sleep all right?” he inquired. “Splendidly,” she smiled. “Not sick at all—no pains?” he pressed. “Why, of course not, Aristotle,” she responded. “Hurrah!” he then exclaimed. “I have discovered another species of mushroom that isn’t poisonous.” — Pittsburgh Chronicle-Telegraph. Mr. Jones at a dinner party had been trying to say something nice to his hostess. “What a small appetite you have, Mr. Jones,” she remarked. “To sit next to you, Mrs. Smith,” he replied, “would cause any man to lose his appetite.” And then he wondered why he wasn’t invited to the next affair—Pickup. Desk—Do you believe in writing anonymously? Quill—Well, I’ve often wished that one of my productions had been anony- mous. “What was it?” “A letter proposing to Mrs. Quill.” —Edinburgh Scotsman. There ought to be something done to prevent the dress reformers from taking the feminine knee out of the public eye——Los Angeles Times. Sammy (admiringly surveying his lately arrived twin sisters)—Did you get them cheaper by taking the two, papa?—Edinburgh Scotsman. Father’s Voice—Maude, hasn’t that young man started for home yet? Clever Young Man—I’ve reached third, sir. “Well, steal, you busher. American Legion Weekly Steal!”?—