Judge — July 6, 1929 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

_ Pig Bristles Are Valuable: Save Them Four dignified, elderly gentle- men, wearing the conventional frock coat of big business, s around a mahogany table in t room of the Consoli- -d Pig Bristle Co., Inc. In center of the table reposed a pile of pig bristles. The directors puffed on their fifty-cent cigars and blew bil- lows of smoke toward the ceiling. At length the president broke the tense silence: “The meeting will please come to order,” he announced, rising. “Gentlemen,” he continued, sternly, “we are gathered here this morning to formulate plans for the manufacture and sale of Q and all articles which can be made of pig bristles. Has any- one any suggestions to offer The secretary opened his mouth to answer, sneezed and blew all the bristles onto the floor. “I sorry,” he said, “but bristles al- ways gi fever.” The vice-president helped the secretary pick up the bristles and replace them on the table, The treasurer said: Just think: one day the pig is squealing and grunting in his pen and before he knows what struck him he’s transformed into a beautiful pair of m ry brushes.” “Or a traveling bag,” said the seeretary, timidly. The vice-president said: “Well, I've been bald for seventeen years, boys, and don’t use a brush, but I certainly apprec a good slice of roast pork.” Come, come, men,” said the president, officiously. “We're here to discuss the bristle of the pig—not the meat! For my part there’s nothing like knuck- les and kraut, but we'll dwell on that subject after the mecting.” I like roast beef,” said the reretary, stifling another sneeze. “That has nothing whatever to do with a pig! said the treas- urer, disdainfully. I don’t care,” said the secre- “IT like it, and, what's » I like it rare.” “TM bet the pig off of whom the bristles came that our laun- dress has in the scrubbing brush she uses in our laundry tub at directors’ ne © me ha & WE DONT WANT NO FOYERS IN THIS HOUSE! ROARED THE FOYER-INSPECTOR Here’s one picked up outside the Kremlin walls—just before they started kremlin to pieces. “Beauty is only skin deep, my boy,” mugged a pious slug to Mad Youth, “That's deep enough for me, Horace,” retorted the backslid Baptist; “I'm no can- nibal!” to work on the crown prince, home was some porker!” The president scowled. “What was that, Davidson!” “T said: ‘There's a d—— big ket for hog brushes.’ ” Phe president coughed rising, si “Well, gentl the plans of the Consolidated Pig Bristle Co., Inc., seem to be Weil, if the kink won't come out of your hair, let's get well under way, and, unless there is some unfinished business, the ing will adjourn.” he secretary drew in a deep leaned back in his chair, poised an instant and, with a tre- mendous lung in sneezed the pig bristles all over th —Jack C He