Judge — June 17, 1922 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

Willie Smith bragged to the fellows that his dad had the biggest and best wine cellar in town. A BULLRUSH She had been working valiantly for weeks in an effort to instill into their young heads a working knowledge of the infancy of Moses. She was put- ting them through their paces in order that a visiting superintendent might see what could be done. “William, who was asked. William, nor some half dozen others, had the slightest idea; but Sam, the Moses?” she black sheep of the class, yelled: “Moses was a Jew!” When the smile had disappeared from the superintendent's face, he asked Samuel: “Where did Moses’s mother hide him?” “In the bullrushes.” “Fine. Now, tell me, what is a bull- rush?” “A bullrush is a large male weed.” HE UNDERSTOOD PERFECTLY John, like most young Americans, was given to study for home-work the opening chapters of the Constitution of the United States. The following day at school the teacher asked if all the class thor- oughly understood what they had been given to study. Up went John’s hand. “Well, John,” inquired the teacher, “was it all clear to you?” “Yes, sir,” replied John, “all ’cepting one thing. Who was General Wel- fare?” It’s Different Now By A. P. Hitchcock OHN ANDERSON, my jo, John, When we were first acquent; You bought me chocolates once a week, But now you pay the rent. I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone; That is, excepting paints and pads And divers daubs unknown. A TRAFFIC DIPLOMAT “You might drive past me a bit slower, miss.” “Oh, bother!” “You're too pretty to arrest, I admit, but you might give a treat to the officer.” —and Freddie told his —and Jimmy told his father, —and Tommy told his father, —and Johnnie told his father, and that eve- ning—well—? father, NEW DODGE Willis—Didn't your wife bawl you out last night when she woke up when you came home? Gillis—No; I fooled her. I stood in the hall an hour, delivered a lecture on “Civic Righteousness,” told a bed- time story, and sang three grand opera selections, and she thought she had forgotten to turn off the radio. The ‘“Knocker” By John T. Corrigan A “KNOCKING” something wrong With inner mechanism, and, I ween, The man that’s ever “knocking” all day long, Must needs have bits of carbon in his spleen. motor augurs HIS FAR OFF ONLY JOB Settlement Worker — What makes your husband look so worried, Mrs. Mixer? Mrs. Mixer—He’s dreadin’ the time, ma'am, when he'll have to go back to work. “Whom does he work for and what does he do, Mrs. Mixer?” “He works for the Salvation Army, ma’am. He Santa Clauses.” REAL MOVIES Helen, age three, was taking her first train ride and was passing through a woods. “What's them?” she asked her mother, pointing to the trees. “Those are trees,” was the answer. “Where are they going?” she asked. UPON A TIME THEE AN AOTIST INTHE NICK OF TIME IT ARRIVED | AT THE GALLERY E t WHERE IT WAS CONTUMELIOUSLY Now it can be told. comicbooks.com