Judge — January 14, 1922 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

TOLD AT THE NINETEENTH HOLE To a Golf Ball By O. C. A. Child UPon the tiny pyramid I built You seem to preen yourself and smirk a bit, Full well aware it’s war unto the hilt, You calmly pose—just waiting to be hit. And I, too, pose and struggle to recall The wisest cracks I’ve read in Var- don, Braid, While you grin up at me, you wretched ball, From that wide gash got from my mashie’s blade. You gain a base advantage from the crowd That seethes around and hints it wants to play— As thus, and thus, this quite out loud They jeer at me! blocks the way. and all ’Tis you that Well, this must end! “The upward swing is slow,” The downward quickens, now you'll squirm and flinch; A mile beyond yon bunker you shall go! What’s this? Good Heavens, you’ve not budged an inch! CALCULUS Entering a grocery store in a great hurry, a man walked up to a clerk and asked for five pounds of butter. The butter was prepared for carriage, and the man, taking it, started for the door. back, “Here, mister, you didn’t pay me for the butter!” Apologetically, the man returned. “I’m awfully sorry. I do that kind of thing once in a while. I’m so sorry to make you extra trouble, but it wasn’t butter I wanted! My wife asked me to bring her home twenty-five pounds of sugar. I don’t see how I could have made such a mistake!” The clerk returned the butter to the ice-box, and weighed out the sugar, putting two heavy bags around it. The man took it, and again started for the door. Again the clerk, laughing at his persistent absent-mindedness, called him back. “Mister! You didn’t pay for the sugar, either!” The clerk called him “ their wives. “What? Oh! The sugar! Oh, didn’t I? Dear, dear! But look here—you see I gave you the butter in exchange for the sugar.” “Yes, but you didn’t pay for the but- ter.” “Well, I didn’t take it.” SHE KNEW HIM A young and eligible bachelor was planning to refurnish and redecorate his apartment, and wished to have the walls newly papered. Knowing his landlord very well socially, he resolved to call one evening and make his wants known, On his arrival, he found his land- lord was out. However, the charm- ing daughter admitted him, and after the usual exchange of greetings he said: “I have come, Miss Rentworth, to ask two very important questions of your father, and hope that both may receive favorable answers.” Miss Rentworth replied: “I’ll be very glad to deliver any messages on father’s return.” “But,” he continued in a jocular vein, “one of these questions relates to you. I was going to ask your father for your hand, and for some new wallpaper as well.” “If that’s all,” she flashed back, “I think dad might give you my hand; but, knowing him as I do, I can offer you no encouragement about the wall- Visitor—Who are all these stiff-legged men that pass here this morning? pital near? Subbubs—No. 5 Is there a hos- Those are some of our best citizens who don’t want to go to church with So they’re sneaking off to the links, each with a golf club stuck down his trouser leg. CHECKING UP One morning a negro sauntered inte the office of a white friend. “Good mawnin’, Mr. Withrow. Kin I use yo’ phone a minute?” he asked. “Why, certainly, Sam.” Sam called his number, and after a few minutes’ wait, said, “Is this Mrs. Whiteside? Well, I seen in de papeh where you-all wanted a good culled man. Is you still wantin’ one? Then the man youse got is puffectly satis- factory, and you doesn’t connemplate makin’ no change soon? All rignt, ma’am. Good-bye.” Mr. Withrow called to Sam as he left the phone, “Now that’s too bad, Sam, that the place is filled.” “Oh, dat’s all right, Mr. Withrow. Ise de nigger what's got de job, but I's jest a wantin’ to check up.” UNSKILLED Down in Texas the short cotton crop forced a large number of country negroes to the cities. One of these applied for a job at one of the large employment agencies. “There’s a job open at the Eagle Laundry,” said the man behind the desk. “Want it?” The applicant shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. “Tell you how it is, Boss,” he said finally. “I sure does want a job mighty bad, but de fack is, I ain’t never washed a eagle.” ADVERTISING An up-to-date Evangelist was writing on all the rocks along a certain river, different bible texts and ad- monitions to be good. At one place on a fine, smooth rock, he wrote: “What are you goirig to do after death?” A week later underneath this an enterprising advertiser had written: “Use Delta oil—good for burns.” HIS OFFENSE Rastus, the camp cook, was in the guard-house, and Sam was offering him a little sympathy. “What they done got you in heah faw, Sam?” “Inverten.” “Inverten? What am dat in- verten, Rastus?” “Well, I jes’ tell yo’, Sam. I done cooked a lot of beans upside down and dey gib dese heah sogers de hiccoughs.” comicbooks.com -