Judge — February 9, 1924 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

How To Be Snappy Though Married HAVE BEEN deeply interested in the articles that have been published from time to time in current issues of magazines on this ever important ques- tion of who is to take the count in the wedding ring. tions have been offered but if one is a poor plumber’s wife, as I am, the two apart- ment idea is out of the question. Let me tell you how my marital spar- ring partner and I worked out our little problem. Many brilliant sugges- Things had come to a crisis in our house- hold. Ben, my hus- band—TI call him Big Ben re- peats until you shut him off—would come into the and never see me at all. Once when I was look- ing for my thimble, which had rolled un- der the piano, he came in and dropped his whole kit of tools on me without knowing I was there. I had grown almost as indifferent to him Imustadmit. I used to say, “Ben! Do put out your hand when you're going to stop. I can’t waste all this good soup by bump- ing into you and spill- ling it down your back.” Things grew steadi- ly worse until one day I gave him a plate of fish bones to give to the cat and he gave them to the baby. He they were both yowlmg and he didn’t notice which was which. because he house fully whacking me on the back with his gold-plated stillson. “You pay the rent cne month and I'll pay it the next, perhaps. We will spend every Armistice Day to- gether as married lovers. But the chil- dren! W of these little accidents that have come into our lives and must be insured?” “Ah! Iwas going to mention them in the last paragraph, but now that you re- mind me I will tell you my plan. I can ‘hire vastly more efficient service’ to train them than I with my maudlin mother-love could ever hope to give. I know a com- When ourdearlittle son came out of his Dear Old Lady (who has been listening in on prize fights via radio)—“Use your upper cut, sonny! Use your uppercut!” tenth convulsion I turned to Ben and “Big Noise, I have a plan! This indifference will drive one of us to homi- ide. We must escape from this confusion illusion.” If I have to eat another breakfast opposite you I will wait until lunch. We had better separate. Don’t point that blow torch at me, I don’t mean divorce or separate apartments, Why can’t we have private quarters under one roof?” ‘My mate of mates,” cried Ben, play- they are too expensive. petent woman who will bring them up in proper violence. She is a retired captain in the Battalion of Death, was decorated for bravery and is anxious to get back into ) WE set to work. Ben took the attic and I took the cellar. I had always secret ambition stifled by menial tasks with spots and spans. Often I have stood dreaming while the baby paddled had 8 in the scrub pail or found myself burning with this ambition over the gas range. My place, as some one has said so truly, was where I could give the most service and get the most out of life. I would make celluloid tooth pic My dear de- ceased Pa used to say, “No one can put pints on them like our Maggie.” If he only hadn't swallowed one he would be here now to give me hel—p. Ben and his assistant soon had the attic torn up and I whitewashed my cosy quar- ters next the coal bin. We call them the upper and lower level and we left. the grand center of the house to the children. Ben built a ladder down the outside of the which is now hidden in vines house and we use a dumb- waiter as our means of communic tion. Never will I forget his first love letter, I keep it in the box with my best hair nets. “Darling Mag: This is written with solder melted by the passion I have re- gained since I have forgotten what you look like having a mud-pack. My vine- covered only ladder _ re- a steadier hand when coming home late than the front door ever did. Tong with every drain I clean for next Armis- tice Day. Yours plumb full of love, Ben.” 1 established studio. quire: my My noiseless toothpick was an in- stantaneous success Just to think it might never have found ex- The walls of my cosy workshop are covered with tes- timonials from all parts of the world. I prize especially the autographed photo- graph of the king of Siam, sent me after he had received his order in which I had put a carton of my special mourning toothpicks with their black bands, having read of the death of one of his wives. One of the most prominent bootleggers in the country uses them to test his liquor. He writes that he holds one over the open bottle and if it curls up he knows (Continued on page 31) pression! comicbooks.com