Judge — August 31, 1929 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

“Can't you find a table, Theobald?” “Not yet. I don’t seem able to attract anyone's attention!” —Hemonist Mrs. Dash at I want to sce,” said the yf girl in the beauty group photograph wives. —Monrtreat Stan wished to show “W kindness to in Blank, so ou nt sent him this invitation: contest “Mrs. Dash requests the pleas: of the juc | ure of in Blank’s company | at a reception on Friday cve- | ning. A prompt reply came: “With the exception of three men, who, unfortunately, are suf- fering from measles, Captain | Blank’s company accepts your ; kind invitation, and will come with pleasure to your reception on Friday evenmg.” —Pranson’s Curiosity—Did you give your wife that little lecture on ccon- omy you talked about? Domesticity—Yes. | Curiosity y results? } Domesticity—I've got to give | up smoking. —Tir Bits | It is suggested that the Statue | of Liberty should be removed 1 | from New York Harbour. But i | why? It acts as an excellent a memorial. a —Lonxpvon Orixion i | He was visiting the newlyweds at their home. Everything was fine, but— a “Why did you take an apart- i ment with such a tiny kitchenette, Tom, old boy? “Well, you're the first man I've i told, so keep it quiet. It's so | small I can't get in there to help | my wife when she’s doing the dishes.” Tir Passenc —Paturinper Sold Again The auctioncer held up a bat- tered fiddle “Lot Twenty-four,” he an- nounced to his audience, were for the most part neigh- boring farmers. “Now, what am I offered for this beautiful violin? “Take a look the blurred fi morseless Ti t its case. See r-marks of re- To the merry notes of this fine old instrument the brocaded dames of fair France have danced the stately minuet in the glittering ballrooms of Versailles. Now, gentlemen, what do you offer me for this in- strument?” There was a long silence while the locals turned the auctioncer’s words over in their minds. “Fifty cents,” said) one at lengt t's yours.” declared the auc- tioneer cheerfully. “Now for Lot Twenty-five!” —Pranson’s nix tun Van—IWot is this ’ere trafic problem the papers is aliays gassin’ about, Bill? —Hewonist who Comicbooks.com