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Judge, 1925-10-24 · page 28 of 36

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Judge — October 24, 1925 — page 28: Judge, 1925-10-24

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RLASTING Ollar Pen The only low cost pen of quality Its 14 Karat GOLD Writ- ing Point with Hard 44 IRIDIUM Tip is same } as used in Highest 4 GUARANTEED for lifelong durability and smooth writ- ing service. Designed, Manufactured and GUARANTEED by of nouAR WATCH FAME Ask Your Dealer—if he cannot supply you we will fill your order, ges prepaid, upon receipt of “ONE DOLLAR. Soecify | model — Men's, Women’s, Juniors’. Dealers—Order a dozen at trade price, guaranteed to meet your approval, or write for details of liberal proposition. Chas. H. Ingersoll Dollar Pen Co. 710 Astor Street Newark, New J “POPULAR RADIO, with which is combined The Wireless Age,” is now the oldest as well as the leading radio maga- zine. No change idation. It will con- tinue to publish the most interest- ing and instructive in- formation for owners of radio receivers and for everyone who is consider- ing building or buying a set. Cellarette, side-board or ocean steamer kit is incomplete without Abbott's Bitters. Aids digestion. Sample by mail 25 cts. C. W. Abbott & Co., Baltimore, Md. BOYS & BE FIRST GIRLS Earn $2.00 IN YOUR TOWN ee eTrust Vou Until Christmas Dey, oo Neubecker Bros., Dept. 182, Brooklyn, N. Y. JUDGE FOR YOURSELF ip %> & Down in Ol’ Virginny Dear Se on art i rd t ar Sir: I am writing you in regard to an editorial decision handed down from the Judge on the Bench in, the September 12 issue of JupE, under the heading “O Temperance! O Morons! which struck me, you might well say, as being cSpout twelve of thiet I was driving ut twelve or thirteen years ago I was drivil out toward the York River one sunshiny October day, over an old-time Virginia dirt road, and about six miles from the old colonial city of Williamsburg I came suddenly upon a small group of grayish painted buildings consisting of a modest, frame house and numerous small outbuildings, et cellar er—perhaps underneath, but that is beside the point. ‘The surrounding grounds were swe as a floor. Not a living soul was iy sigh ta silence complete until a solitary crow, taking fight overhead, created a sound that in'the stillins almost amounted to an explosion. ‘The farm lant were cleaned as I have said to a degree seldom if ever seen in this happy land of ours. ‘The driver, in answer to the question, “Who lives there? said, “Old Mr. Morecan, and he sweeps out bis woods. He and his wife live out here and I hav, heard he has an eating place in New Yor _ Silence, Old Mr. Morecan and his eating place in New York! Shades of the things we have real about descend upon us! Just then my attention was directed from gazing at the woods that had been swept out so neatly to across the fence lining the road, and I saw a sight that some way I hae never ceased to remember. A pair of sollly tue ting ponies almost noiseless on the heavy, close grass, attached to what may be know as a “buckboard,” yellow in color, with two seats. On the front seat was a rather portly. looking old gentleman, ruddy faced, graybearded, who held the reins, driving smartly along the side of the field. Beside him was a little old lady with the brightest old eyes I have ever seen, sitting sedately, at ease with all the world. She wa dressed in several colors, browns and grays and something blue that seemed perfectly in harmony with the brilliant October sunshine, the sky and earth, all happily blended. Enough said, ‘That was Henri Mouquin and Madame Mouquin, lo resident in Virginia, brightening with cheery kind- liness and world intelligence all their neighbor. hood, and far away enough, indeed, from his “New York eating place!” Many times did ‘3 see them afterwards driving about the country roads, always together, seem- ingly a part of the quiet landscape and blending “Well, well, youngster, why the tears?” “My poor, poor father is dead, my mother is dead, my grandfather is in heaven, all my brothers and sisters are gone and buried—and if I have to go back home without any money they’Ilknock th’ stuffin’ out of me!” —Le Petit Bleu comicbooks.com teen) wet