Judge — July 28, 1928 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

“JUDGE ten minutes, parsley, Then garnish with sprinkled with lemon yourself up. 1, girls, I think I hear De- mentia calling me from the gar- den, so I guess I will put on my bee-keeper’s veil and “run along.” a little parting present from author to you, here is a “good about bees he just made up all out of his own head: Husband—Well, I just bought _ a hive of bees at a bargain! Wife—You may think it was a bargain, but I bet you stung”! No Bargain Some people demand a tooth for a tooth; but they want yours to have gold in it. Don't worry about the future; it may not last long. She is only a lighthouse keep- cr’s daughter, so the sailors pass her by. “Oh, Harold, how terrible! he has to go without cream for his coffee this morning.” Letters From a Song Writer’s Mother to her Son Dear Son: You should tell a clown to laugh, heh? What is he there for? That's his business, just like Popper pressing pants. Y« didn’t have to tell him: Ge and laugh, clown, laugh. He knows his business. Mind yours —please. And anyhoe is it so much difference? It is nothing so important whether or not the clown laughs slong he makes other people laugh. They would be just as satisfied. And how could you tell whether or not a clown was laughing behind all the paint on their faces—espe- cially where we sat at the circus? I forgot to tell you I took your little brother Sammy who is learning to be song writer like we help it?—to the ause he likes peanuts. He had such a good time he got sick. But the show was spoiled for me ay before that. I kept thinking all the time about the song and I kept thinking maybe clowns’ hearts was breaking over something. Whocan tell? Those poor fellows—always their hearts breaking in operas or in songs.. It really is too bad. Poor souls, when I thought of it I just couldn't I couldn't ha Such old gags. falls apart. It I know—ain't we While the opera and song writers are thinking so much out the clowns and their broken hearts why don't they think a little about the acrobats and their broken necks? Why they ain't gottem, I dunno. mmy thought so too, and he is writing a song about that. It’s about a acrobat who has to go and carry on even though his neck and one arm are broken from a fall on the matinee. He couldn't disappoint the audi- ence, as if the elephants ain't a big enough attraction. Carry on until you're carried out. So this acrobat docs his stuff with one hand and gets a big hand from the audience who didn't even know he was sick, the poor The flivver whic h funny. —R. C. O'Brien It’s our milk man—Father will be furious when 9 comicbooks.com