Judge — August 31, 1929 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

ct JUDGE “I had a husband once, but he left me. Mustn’t Rub! “Now, don’t rub Stanley; you'll only irritate it... . I kno’ dear, but it's making your ey inflamed. Where is it? ... Well, where docs it feel as if it was? Try blowing your nose hard... I know it isn’t in your nose, dear, but very often blowing will dis- lodge it in some or other. “Come over under the light and let mother look. Don’t rub it— you'll only make it worse... . What does it feel like. I mean, does it feel lik eye-winker? ... Tean't see a thing. Your eye is terribly red looking, dear; you must stop rubbing it. Try pull- ing the upper lid down over the lower... . There, did that get it out. ... Well, it’s probably out but the speck may have left a seratch. It'll be all right soon, if you don't irritate it by rubbing. “ALL right, dear; come over rar this window and I'll try again. . . . Now, open your eye wid Don’t blink—mother can’t see anything if you blink that way... . Now look up at the ceil- ing. ... Now look over at grand- father’s portrait. . . . Now look over the other way at the fruit dish. . . . Now look down at the floor... . Now keep your eye on the sideboard— I think I see it... . Oh, Stanley! You blinked. Now mother has lost track of it... . It must be your imagination, dear—I see the all speck on your check. . . e, it’s nothing but a little black dot. “You can feel it still. Then, tell me where it is, dear... . Well, gracious, rubbed it so much of course you don't know where it is... . Here, I'll fill the washbowl and then you put your nd maybe it'll wash out. it feel like a bug or a cinder, dear? . . . Let's see—don't they put a cold key down the back, or something. Oh, no— that's for sneezing, isn’t it... . Wait, dear; I'll get a match and turn your eyelid back. Don't rub it, Stanley—it only makes it worse. Now, put your head ‘way you've Vitaa—Has Olaf gone on the He went back to Princeton.” back while mother rolls your lid up on this match. . . . Don't blink, dea t catch your lashes when you wink. ... Oh, sweetheart! mother didn’t to stick the match in your did it hurt? . Now don’t be impudent, Stanley—Mother was doing her best to get the speck out. —Jack Ciuetr Not Dug, Jugged ! There's gold in them there moun- tains, There's gold in them there hills; The natives there are getting it by operating stills. —R. C. O'Brex mean cagon? No, you can lead a Norse to water but you can’t make be Comicbooks.com