Judge — October 21, 1922 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

sR “Yes, indeed, Mr. Hazard, these are glorious autumn days. They in- spire me with the thought of how the world is getting better and better.” “No doubt of it. Why only the other day Abe Mitchell shot twelve ‘birdies’ in one round.” Drawn by RENE CLARKE. A Grand Baby by J. B. Sprague I KNOW a sweet flapper named Picker- ing Who sets all the neighbors to snickering, Because when she struts In her knickers and “putts,” She looks like a model (from Chickering)! Sat 2 Jones—T hear Smith made 72 yesterday. Brown—I'm sorry to hear that! Jones—Sorry? Why that’s par for the course? Brown—I1 know that. I'm sorry be- cause Smith will be off his game the rest of his life. tas UNGE JAKE is one of the most I able senior members of the Lon- fer who takes his game all too seriously and is the pos- sessor of one of the finest cussing vocabu- laries ever heard. His principal line of profanity, however, leans well toward allusions to the warmer of the two divi- sions of the hereafter. Playing in a foursome one hot after- company with a preacher mem- ade an especially rotten shot to the crow’s-nest hole. It was a shot that would have made most any one swear, and Uncle Jake started in to wind up at once, but getting as far as “Oh!” he re- membered his partner of the wound up by saying, “Oh, dear!” The minister chuckled and the other two players roared and Uncle Jake has locked up his clubs until the story wears out and he recovers his former nerve and dignity. GOLFER, aged fifty-nine, having é finished a round of golf central west country club in 85, playing in a four- some, the score became a general topic of conversation at the dinner table. One of the women guests—who, by the ay, does not play the game—volunteere latement in good faith that a rel tive had during his golfing experience made all the eighteen holes in one, giving him a score of 18 “Impossible!” came from the guests in chorus, but woman-like she insists she was rach had played eighteen holes. asked the first, “how did it go Civil old War -ond. I played the What do you all the tin id back in 64.” ae ANDY MacPHERSON had driven a beautiful ball straight down the fairway for 275 yards, He was now con- fronted with a babbling little stream which he must cross to reach the green, seventy-five yards away. He called his die and selected the mashie from his of clubs, With cool and deliberate 1 he took a terrific swing. The ball sailed through the air, across the stream, landed dead three feet from the irly danced across the brook he brook, the brook, the bbling brook! May it never bonnie run dry 1 Coming to the same stream on the second round, ndy had the ident shot to mak ‘lecting his mashie again he took a mighty wallop. ‘The ball spurted, bounced from rock to rock, and finally landed in the middle of the brook. Sandy watched it forlornly settle itself in the bottom of the stream and then turned to his caddie and said: “Son, go down there and get my ball out of that dirty sewer.” tote MINISTER, preparatory to learn- ing golf, was going around the course with a friend when they came up with two players who were figuratively scorching the green with cuss words. Discovering the minister, one said: “Please excuse us, reverend. You know how golfers are. We always call a spade a spade.” “I'm glad to hear it, Graham,” replied the minister, “I was thinking you'd call it a dam shovel.” sat LACK GEORGE waited on tables in the Dixie Restaurant until via the draft he reached the trenches. Nobody was lying around dying, it wasn’t so bad as he had expected, and his mecurial spirits arose at once. “Hi, there, you ole Germans, ole projectors and high explosions, we j eats them things,” he stood and shouted. Almost instant] ray shell exploded and George was knocked flat. Com- rades rushed to his aid. He lay for a moment unconscious, then rolling his he whispered, » bo, dese Ger- mans sho gives servi