Judge — July 5, 1924 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

A Prophecy Hare! Hark! Peome to warn ya’! From Maine to California, From Dakota right down to the Lone Star State, In fact, the entire nation Must prepare for inundation: A flood of words will swamp us if we wait. Big winds will devastate us, Brainstorms will agitate us, And fires of eloquence will scorch the land. Eruptions beyond counting, Disasters ever mounting, Will be viewed with great alarm on ev'ry hand. ‘There'll be wars, and there'll be rumors: ‘There'll be booms, and there'll be boomers (You'll hear the plop! as little boomlets bust). ‘There'll be rage and disappointment; ‘There'll be flies in all the ointment; And many candidates will bite the dust. Lion-hearted politicians Will rush about on missions, And sheep-like office-seekers will look wise. ft The mutton-faced bellwether ik i ; And the lion will lie together: Portentous apparitions And terrible conditions Will threaten us (unless we vote with care). Death, ruin, pestilen Will be the consequences (If a given candidate should get the air). - | } i And look pained if we should disbelieve their lies. (VN Mistress (pointing out cobweb)—Your master wants to know whether you've seen this? But let us not be fearful; New Maid—Yes, that was there when I come— something to do with yer wireless, ain’t it? Let us keep our spirits cheerful; For the fury of the storm will lose its force By the end of next November, Or the first week in December; . = And the nation will regain its normal course. How Junior Became a Sharp- shooter Ged Mrs. Stitch (over the phone)—And by the way, dear, perhaps there is some- thing you needed downtown. Mrs. Owen—Why, I hadn’t thought Mrs. Stitch—Oh, that’s all right, my dear, I was just wondering if you: " etnies Mrs. Owen—I could use loaf of bread. Ne! Mrs. Stitch—Well, you see, I thought he Cass perhaps you might be sending Junior down to do some shopping for you-and if he were going down anyway, there are some things I thought he might get Mrs. Owen—I'm sure he'd be glad to. Mrs. Stiteh—If he’s on his way down for that loaf of bread Mrs. Owen—T'll send him right over. Mrs. Stitch—He’s right over here play ing baseball in the vacant lot And soon. Three-quarters of an hour later Mrs. Stitch is found with her skull crushed in by a baseball bat. Well, I finally found some use for the old bonnet 24 comicbooks.com