Judge — September 12, 1925 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

Cook (looking for new employer's house)—Can you tell me where Mrs. Jones lives? Desperate Housewire—Why—er—this is Mrs. Jones! The Hunt #£ hunt had been the talk of sporting circles for a month. Many had been the speculations as to whether any of the game actually survived. There were endless argu- ments pro and con, but the consensus of opinion had been that it was ex- tremely doubtful whether a surviving specimen would be found. Still, when the morning of the great hunt dawned, more than 500 participants were at the appointed rendezvous eagerly awaiting the signal for the start. At last the moment arrived. The master of the hunt sounded his siren and the 500 automobiles, with a clashing of gears and a sputtering of exhausts, swept out of the club- house grounds and lengthened out into a long procession down the highway. Thousands had come to view the start and to await the return of the hunters, and now they watched the cars gradually diverge into side roads until the last machine was out of sight. The hunt had been well planned. No bit of country within a radius of 200 miles would be left unexplored. As the last car dis- appeared the spectators retired to the clubhouse or to the links or to the tennis courts. There was nothing for them to do now but to await the return of the hunters. Gradually, the day wore away. As evening shadows began to lengthen, the excitement of those who had remained behind was at a fever heat. Then singly, then in groups, out of the lanes and byways the returning automobiles began to converge upon the main highway. There they reformed into a triumphal “I'm tellin’ ya final, Adol; me catch yez snoopin’ beauty parlor onct more and home goes to Mother.” a procession. As this mighty parade of cars approached the spot whence the hunt had set out, those who awaited the-home coming could see a limp shape hanging across the hood of the foremost car. The kill had been made! The hunt had been successful and the lucky hunter was bringiag in his trophy. As this car drove up to the clubhouse and came to a stop, dusty and panting, the waiting thousands crowded around it to view the quarry. It was unique. There was not another like it in all the world. It was the last pedestrian! Dalnar Devening Impasses w= two men get together, each of whom has just picked up Honolulu on his one-tube set. When two women get together each of whom has just met “the handsomest man.” An actor and an author, each with a pocket full of favorable reviews. A musician and a poet with a pocket full of favorable reviews. Two golfers who have just made a hole in one, Two women who've just gotten over appendicitis. A couple of babies with the colic. Carroll comicbooks.com