Judge — May 20, 1922 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

4 1 | | TOLD AT THE SWEET MUSIC He—I'm so glad your father snores; it gives one such a feeling of security. HOW SHE WOULD PAY IZZIE, a colored maid-of-all-work, came in late during the cold wea- ther and said: “Miss Mary, I ain't got nothing to eat for them chillun, and I ain't got a stick o’ wood to keep ‘em warm.” “Well, Lizzie, we shall have to do something about that,” replied her mistress. “Yessum, I hope you is. Can I use de phone?” The following conversation then ensued: “Miss Lomax, Della ain't comin’ to work dis mornin’; she’s gone to town to buy a victroly.” “Lizzie!” the mistress exclaimed in- dignantly, “how can you let Della spend her money for a victrola, when the children have nothing to eat?” “Lord!” she replied, “you's got to have some sort of recreation when you got—er—empty stomach.” “Well, how do you ever expect to pay for it?” “On the extortion plan.” este) FAR-REACHING A protracted meeting had been in progress for several days in a village chapel in the South. The “harvest of souls” had been satisfying, but the “great awakening” had not come. So the pastor in charge brought a new preacher into the village to “reach men’s hearts.” The night he preached his first sermon, Louise, religiously inclined, came home very much excited. She did not wait for her mother to ask her how .% she enjoyed the sermon, and whether the Spirit visited the services that night. On the contrary, she rushed into the sit- ting-room and _ shouted joyously: “Mamma, Bro- ther Piatt preached the best sermon I ever heard. You could hear him a mile!” #9 TURKISH HUMOR Nasreddin Kodja, the Molsem priest, was leav- ing the house, saying: “I'm going to plow our field.” His wife corrected him: “If God wishes, I'm going to plow our field,” which he thought was quite an unnecessary addition. Hardly had. he started, mounted when a NINETEENTH HOLE and the horseman cloud of dust. The return was weary; he was thirsty and hungry, and did not reach the village until late at night. Timidly he knocked on the door of his own disappeared in a house. “Who's there?” asked his wife. “If God wishes, it’s me,” came the answer. CERTAIN OF ONE DETAIL The detective, getting a description of an absconding bank cashier of his employer, asked: “Now, give me some particulars of this man—size, color of hair, kind of clothes, and so on. How tall was he?” The banker hesitated a moment, rubbed his chin rather doubtfully, and then answered: “I can't exactly tell you how tall he was, but I can tell you to within a dollar or two just how short he was.” HIS REASON A former socialist, and now very much anti, is known for his unlimited vocabulary and ready wit. Not long after the war he was addressing an open air meeting in the Wall street district, and among other subjects touched upon were the boys who fought “over there.” A stout suffragette sort of woman asked: “Will you tell us just why you didn’t fight with the boys ‘over there’?” “Yes, madam, I will tell you. For the same reason that you are not with the Follies—physical disability!” Sheik caught up to him, whipped him, and ordered: “Show me the way to Bag- dad.” Poor Nasreddin had to take the bridle and lead the horse, mile after mile, under a blazing sun Finally the town emerged through the Drawn by A. B. WALKER haze, Nazred- din received a last whipping, “Be with you in five minutes, Tom. warming up for our foursome, and also showing my wife the practical influence of golf.” Am just comicbooks.com