Judge — June 24, 1922 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

A GIRTLE scant, a silken knee, Soft cheeks of rose, Two lips more red than lips should be, A saucy nose; A puff to veil each modest ear, Some subtle curls, An inch of bodice in the rear, A string of pearls. I rather disapprove her style, I must confess, And marvel that her careless smile Can wound or bless; But when I meet her laughing eyes That challenge mine, I place her with the Grecian gods— She seems divine. —Pennsylvania Punch Bowl. oe Nib—I lost an opportunity of kiss- ing Peggy in the conservatory last night during the dance I had with her. Lick—Well, don't worry about it; I found it later—Iowa Frivol. Soca Landlady—I don’t allow any games of chance here. Student—This isn’t that sort of a game. My friend here hasn't a chance. —Cornell Widow. Seca Auction—I saw a fellow hold thir- teen trumps last night and only take one trick. Bridge—How come? “Well, he trumped his partner's ace on the first trick— “Yeah?” “—and his partner shot Hamilton Royal Gaboon. him."— Telltales. —Pennsylvania Punch Bowl. With the College Wits Irrepressible, Joyous, Irresponsible Danger. —Brown Jug. Sec Nurse—Your Majesty, it’s a boy. King Solomon—A thousand petty | malbitos! time! s “Do not despair, O king; there will be three more along in a minute.”— Amherst Lord Jeff. ooo Pat’s boss had been a “mule driver” when it came to handling men. Upon the boss’s death the company’s flag was flown at half mast. And I wanted a girl this “What's that flag in the middle of \ the pole for?” asked Mike of his friend, Pat. “Faith,” said he, “they'll haul it up or down when they find what direction he’s going.” —Mass. Ag. Squib. His dark, strong face bent closer over the mass of disheveled golden locks upon his shoulder. He stirred and the slim form beside him slipped down a little in his arms, the fair hair bobbing in the light breeze as he whispered a half-formed question. The moon sailed through the fleecy clouds, ever climbing higher from the edge of the sea. For a long time they had sat thus, drinking in the beauty of a per- fect moonlight night in June. He of the swarthy complexion raised his head. Slowly the shining yellow shock turned toward him, the lips parted. “Jack,” they husked, “lay off that flashk. You're a fine shpecimen of a shipmate. Gimme a shwig!” But Jack continued to drink in the beauty of the moon- light.—Annapolis Log. ~e “Lie back a little farther in the chair,” coaxed the barber. “If you don’t mind I'll stay as I am. The last time I lay back I fell asleep, and when I woke up I owed the barber my next week's wages.”—Toronto Gob- lin, ~e Wife (at head of stairs, in night- dress)—Is that you, John? Thick voice from dark—Wull, who wuz y’ expectin’?—Dartmouth Jack o’ Lantern. oe! “What became of the miss in your engine?” “The accelerator."—Stanford Chap- arral. Ee eee ee she said. —Dartmouth Jack o’ Lantern.