Judge — December 25, 1926 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

WELE“SARATOGA SADIE”? WHAT PRICE COLLARS AND CUFFS? Here is a flossy piece of merchandise we just received from the South. A couple of Kentucky mountaineers met outside a well-known still (ad- dress on request). Said one, Lafe by name, “Say, Hank, old rubbish, they tell me you-all shot a man down thar in the gulch. Why-all did you-all do it?” “Well, Lafe,” replied the other, reaching for his shootin’-iron, “thet thar guy claimed Ah had a necktie on under mah beard. What could Ah do?” Now I ask you, did you ever hear a dumber one than this? A Man About Town opeRT DEMUTH was a man about town. Not only was Robert Demuth a man about town but he was also a man about four feet eleven inches at least and car- ried himself well. He had learned to carry himself well when he was in the army during the great World War. People everywhere stopped and stared at him on the street because he carried himself so well. Perhaps you would think that he would have become annoyed when people stared at him on the street this way for carrying himself so well. Well, he was sort of. That is until he got used to it as everyone does. His friends always used to say to him, “Robert, you'll get used to it as everyone does.” So after he got used to it he would just acknowledge their stares with a cool smile and a self-satisfied look meaning, “I’ve gotten used to it.” “HAVE! YOVWAT LAST GLOATED. SAMUEL, lounging. Robert loved to lounge. He had learned to lounge at a very early age because his mother had one of the easiest lounges in the neigh- borhood. It was really too easy for words. In fact, it was like taking candy from a baby. But Robert didn’t care. He used to stay home and lounge by the hour. Then he would lounge by the fire and then by the window and sometimes by the piano. And sometimes he would even alternate if it struck his fancy. But then it always irritated his mother when he alternated. “What are you doing down there?” his mother would call in a shrill fal- setto and a kimona. “I'm lounging,” Robert would answer, and then he would just lean back and go on lounging—and no one would hear a sound from him until he was through. It was Florence Haber whom he chanced to meet late one evening just before sundown. “Why, bless my soul,” Robert ex- claimed to the conductor, “stop the car because I am sure that’s Florence Haber we just passed.” He could always recognize her by a rusty mail- box right in front of her veranda. “Why, Florence, what are you doing here?” he asked, taking her by the arm and leading her toward (Continued on page 24) One day found Robert telling a “Quick, Sam, a wildcat’s jes run into tha’ house with yer wife.” story as he sat around at the club, “Wal, he'll jes’ have to git out the best way he can!” een een ner comicbooks.com