Judge — February 25, 1922 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

“Is this to be a consultation?” “No, doctor; now that it is the end of the year, I am going to commence paying you the sixty-two v s that you paid me.”"—Le Rire (Paris). “Miss Pounders,” said Mr. Dub- waite, severely, “your merry mood does you credit, but I wish you wouldn't sing at your work.” “I'm typing this letter you dictated to Skinnim & Fleece, sir.” “Well?” “I wouldn't dare to write such lan- guage without doing something to keep it from spoiling my disposition.”—Bir- mingham Age-Herald. “Don’t you find that playing golf so much interferes with your business?” “Of course it does; but what's the use of having a business of your own if you can’t neglect it once in a while?” —WNew York Sun. “Henry, I wish you'd pay up your back pew rent. I'm almost ashamed to go to church.” “Can't do it this month, my dear. Got to pay my dues to the golf club.” —Browning’s Magazine. Teacher—Helen, can you tell me the difference between “to like” and “to love”? Helen—Yes. I like my mamma, but I love chocolate.—H ouston Post. “You recall the story of David and Goliath, I hope?” “I have a hazy recollection of hav- ing heard it somewhere,” said the race track frequenter. “It must have been when I was a small boy and went to Sunday School. David was the little chap who upset the dope by killing the big fellow, wasn’t he?” “Yes.” “Ah! That's one of the few cases on record where a hundred-to-one shot brought home the bacon.”—Birming- ham Age-Herald. “I've got a tollable fair butcher knife,” said a resident of the Mount Pizgy neighborhood, down in the Ozarks, “and if I had an old bull I reckon I’d move to town and start a meat shop.”—Kansas City Star. They were big game hunters, and they were trotting out their usual stock of “reminiscences.” When each had told his best lie, the only member of the party who had never been to Africa was asked to tell a story. “Well, I'm afraid I've nothing very exciting to tell you,” he piped in a small, still voice. “I once had a small affair with a lion escaped from a men- He bounded on me as he got agerie. clear of his enclosure—and, well, of course, I wasn’t armed.” “What on earth did you do?” cho- rused the others. “Well,” retorted the little man, “I just seized his lower jaw with my right hand and his upper jaw with my left hand, and held his mouth open till he starved."—London Opinion. Little Louise was lost on the street and was brought into the police station. The officers tried in every way to learn her name. Finally one of the officers said: “What name does your mother call your father?” “Why,” said Louise, very innocently, “she don’t call him any name; she likes him.”—Harper's Magazine. During a sermon recently delivered by a Philadelphia clergyman there were frequent references to “sancti- monious, psalm - singing, professed Christians who have no real religion in their make-up.” A lad of ten who had heard the ser- mon remarked to his father when they returned home: “Dad, I shouldn’t have thought Dr. Smith would have spoken that way about Christians this morning. There might have been some of them in church!"—Pittsburgh Chronicle Tele- graph. “What are you going to be when you grow up, Jennie?” “I'm going to be an old maid.” “An old maid, dear. Why?" “*Cause I don't think I'd like to kiss a man a hundred times and tell him he’s handsome every time I do shop- ping. I'd rather earn money and buy things for myself."—Baptist Boys and Girls. “One never hears a breath of scan- dal about her.’ “Why? Hasn't she any friends?" — London Mail. “Oh, what a beautiful neck-piece! —La Vie Parisienne. And my favorite fur is chinchilla, too!”