Judge — January 12, 1924 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

“You watch that boy, Eph; he'll be another Paderuosky some day!” xplained I CALLED to see the editor Saturday afternoon in my handsome car, the chauffeur resting comfortably on the luxuriously upholstered seat, while I sat in the edi- torial sanctum. ‘The editor had never met me before. He had bought a few of my poems and had paid for them sparingly. He no doubt pictured me pinched and cold, with lean, hungry face, working my benumbed finger: er the keys of my typewriter in some chilly, unfurnished attic. He was much surprised to see my fashionable clothes, of the latest cut and most expensive materials. My hand- some broadcloth coat lined with perfectly matched mink caused his eyes to fairly bulge. I passed him a fifty-cent cigar, lighted it for him, from a small automatic gold cigar lighter, and then lighted one myself. He puffed a few moments in silence. I could tell that he hardly knew what to say. Finally he cleared his th and spok You must be a very successful writer,” he said. 1 lightly and the sunlight playing through the sent a hundred glints of fire from my carat diamond ring. “Oh, I just write poems in the ev “in the day time I’m a union bricklay ing,” I replied, —William Sanford ttt Tom—I certainly am leg wea Dick—Been walking? “No. Reading the magazines. Forgery! “TN TuIs vale of sorrow,” A wise man has thus writ- ten, “Men are either hammers Or the anvils that are smitten.” I hesitate to call him, Yet I know many fellows, Whom I can not classify Except as windy bellows. —Edgar Daniel Kramer sae Many a man on a diet should be on a diet! Prey It All Depends! Ethel—Would you marry a man whom you hated? Clara—Yes—if I hated him enough! sts Kidd—To-morrow is my wooden wedding anniversary and I can’t think of a thing to give my wife. Kidder—Nonsense, man; use your head. te “Does your wife always have ast word?” indeed. I have it. It's ttt “What made your cook leave?” “My poor cooking.” Weather Forecaster’s Wife—And you pre- dicted—Fair and warmer! Bah! comicbooks.com