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nr,AT?ST'-' RTJNTMT AM tcftTCAN. ATLANTA. OX., STM) AY. JULY 4. 1J115. )
Doings of the Junk Family
By T. E. Powers, the Famous Cartoonist.
Cooyrlirht by th« 8t«,r Com pan jr. Orsat BrtUin Rtfhta RMtrvaA
Interviews with
Celebrities
—By Penelope Sobsistor.
“Tom, the Piper’s Son”
Copyright, ISIS, by th* Rtav Cwnpiiiy.
Great Britain Rights R**errMI.
HATE to send a detlcat*.
* I fragile, female out on am
t assignment like this, I
think I had better send a ample
husky men reporters along 'with
you," said the editor of the City
Life Section to me, "because I'm
going to send you out to Interne™
a thief. His name la Tom, and ba
Is the son of a piper.”
"Piker?" I asked.
"No—no; piper,” replied the edi
tor
"Bagpipes or a plumber?” I
asked.
Probably a plumber-, the other
iso*t a thief, merely a murderer
of quiet”
But I wasn't afraid of a thief, eo
I ventured out alone. It took me a
long time to find him, and where
do you suppose he was, and what
do you suppose he was doing”
Never mind. Don’t try to take up
space trying to guese. I will tell
you. He was a professor of an
thology In a famous college.
"Quite right quite right," he
said, when I asked him ff he «u
the man who stole the pig, and the
brazen chap actually laughed at It
This angered me, because I believe
In law and order, so I quoted:
"Tom, Tom, the Piper’s son.
Stole a pig and away he rutf!"
The professor of enthology shud
dered and paled.
■'Horrors!' 1 he exclaimed.' “do
not repeat that again: it is a
crime. Say ’Away he ran’.’’
"But mother Goose said rum.'"
I insisted.
"Mother Goose was a personage
of rather Inferior Intellect, I fear,”
said the professor, shuddering an
other aesthetic shudder. "Of
course, she never had a university
training, and I doubt, my dear
young woman—when you are thir
ty-eight it’s simply GRAND to be
called a 'young woman’—If she
could even tell the difference be
tween the figure writing of the
Aztecs and the signal fires of the
Alaskan Tinglingt aborlglnees."
This peeved me a whole lot.
"But you stoie a pig!” I snapped.
"Most assuredly I did. In the
days of my adolescence I purloined
a young specimen of the genus sua
hut I assure you it was merely t
prank. We put the little beast 1»
the Greek professor’s bed. Lat«
It was returned to Its rightful
owner.” I
Anyway. 1 have cleared Tom’s
name.
THE MORNING SMILE
WEX JONES Editor
VOL. V.
Atlanta, Ga„ Sunday, July 4. 1915.
NO, 38.
BOON TO WIVES
Smile’s Staff of Scien
tists Produces New
Device for Getting
Hubby Home.
NO MORE NIGHTS OUT
E ver since the days of Eve
wives have needed a
device such as that illus
trated on this page look at
the drawing of the Smile’s
Twentieth Century Husband
Home Hauler, and you'll see why
no wife can afford to he without
one
The Illustration explains the
action of th# device. Wlfey slips
up to the swinging door, throwa
the patent foot-yanker under
neath, and when it touches
hubby's ankle she gives the gas
to the Hauler, and they're off
homeward.
This la one thing women dou't
need the ballot to vote for
HOW TO—
Make a break Drop half a
doren of the best dinner plates
Rise In the world Eat a rake
^ of yeaat.
Take a tumble to yourself.
Step on a banana peel.
Prevent drowning Don't go
near the water.
Get planked shad Plank down
a plunk and they’ll plunk down
the plank
Our Weekly Health Hint
Don’t.
The Smile s Husband Home Hauler.
Timelock Foams, the Great Detective
The Adventure of the Idle Man.
^y^OTSON.” said the great
detective, “look through
A that window and tell
me what you see “
'*1 Bee a man.” I answered
“Excellent. PQtson. excellent
We shall make something of you
yet. Your brain, as you are
pleased to call it, is working
unusually well today. True
tnougb. there la a man In there.
And now, Potson, tell me what
tne man 1b doing."
“He is idle." said 1. after close
inspection of the man stretched
out in a Morris chair
“Tut, tut. my dear Potson;
your natural stupidity reasserts
itself. The man is performing
his task “
T ran t see how. I replied
"He’s Just lying around In a com
fortable chair, as far as I can
see "
“Molasses. Potson. cold mo
lasses fills your cranial cavity
That man Is performing his daily
task. He hat nothing to do and
hr't doing it *’
"But**
"Don't be a butter, Potson.
Butting Is a sign of mental in
feriority”
Foams Is a great detective,
but when it conies to politeness,
good night
IN THE SMILE’S
LETTER BOX
TIPS AND TIPPERARY.
To the Editor—1 read the
following In the St. Louis Globe-
Democrat :
“Tip but rarely” Is the
slogan of an anti-tlpplng so
ciety. says the Milwaukee
Sentinel It’s a long, long
way to tig but rarely.
There would also be a long,
lone wait for the waiter by the
Customer shod tip but rarely.
I SAM THE SOCIOLOGIST.
Our Own Nut
Column
With gratification like unto
that of a squirrel at dinner The
Smile announces that it has se
cured the services of Professor
Crackit, of K utley, N J., inventor
of the nut sundae, to advise all
persons who feel that the "round
house is devoid of locomotives."
Following is the professor's first
article:
By Prof. I. L. L. Crackit
What kind of a Nut are you?
Size up your shell and then send
the answer to me.
Are you beset by Pears?
Banish them. I know a young
man who Feared to ask for a Job.
He never got one. despite the
fact that his father Is a million
aire. and now all he has to do is
to run hla automobile and sleep
What a life!
1 know another youth who
Worried constantly till finally he
got married. Now his wife does
the Worrying.
Still another was beset by
Anger At last, having triumphed
at home, he tried it out on a
subway guard He’s holding his
own In the hospital.
Worry. Pear. Anger are the
three Enemies of Mankind. Cast
them aside. Here is my advice
In a nutshell: Stand before a
cracked mirror, look yourself in
the phis and thrice repeat.
“Oh. Nut; I see thee not."
Then rap thrice on your Dome.
If there Is no reverberation it is
a sign of Solid Ivory. But cheer
up!
Don ■ a Peanut be a
Hickory Nut,
WITH THE COLLEGE WITS
THE CHANGING
PANORAMA OF LIFE.
Before Marriage.
CUE—Jack, you are the sweetest
man. Oh, how I love you!
Jack (pinching her cheek)—How
much?
After Marriage.
She—Jack, you are the sweetest
thing. Oh. how I love you!
Jack (reaching toward his vest
pocket)—How much?
But—
«/”*0NFES810N Is good for the
^ soul.”
“Yea but It's bad for the refu
tation.”
Copyright, 1915, by the Star Company.
Sir Lionel—My wife objects to
this knight work.
Appropriate.
44IIOW do you sell your musicV*
11 “We sell piano music by
the pound and organ music by the
choir.’*
Knight of the Garter?
MERRY KING ART—Now just
4” what are your reasons for
wishing to resign from the Round
Table?
Retaliation.
/"*IBBS—Does your wife ever
^ scold when you have been out
late at the club? v
Dibbs—Never! 8he merely gets
up at 4 o’clock the next morning
Great Britain Rights Reserved,
and practises on the piano, and I
daren’t say a word.
False Modesty.
/SO-ED—That was a pretty speedy
** fellow that you met last night,
wasn’t it?
Ypsi person—-Lord, no!
Co-ed—What do you mean?
Ypsi person—Why, he would
think it out of place to kiss the
blarney stone until he had seen it
for at least the third 'time. *
And None Were Found.
piLK— Several patients who had
* St. Vitus’s dance escaped from
the insane asylum.
Bilk—How?
Pilk—Why, they broke Into a
ballroom where the late dances
were being done, and no one could
tell them from the guests.
At the Beach.
«J|OWS she dressed?"
"Tan, mostly.’
Proprietor Relished ’Em.
OUBSCRIBER—That was a grand
*■' paper you got out last week.
Country EJditor—I am glad to
hear that you were pleased with it
Subscriber—Them stories you
had in about them fellers bein’
cured of long-standin’ diseases
were the entertalningest bits of
news Tve read for a long time.
The Unwilling Worm.
r\AMON RUNYON and Sid Mer-
cer. New York sporting writ
ers, were fishing In Great South
Bay one Saturday afternoon in the
Autumn. Mercer caught fish regu
larly. Runyon had never a nibble.
Finally he reeled in.
"Come on, Sid; let’s quit." he
said.
“Why?” inquired Mercer.
"There’s an hour yet before dark."
"I think I might as well quit,’’
said Runyon sadly; "my worm’s
not trying."
A Revised Version.
C ITIZEN—Why stand ye here all
the day Idle?
Lounger—We are city employes.
Good Place.
MODD—How U the music to the
Bingbang restaurant?
Tom—Wonderful! I was In
there with my wife for an hour the
other evening and couldn’t hear a
word she said.
Feeding* Huerta’s Family
Copyright, 1815. by the Star Company. Great Britain Righto Reserved.
By WATT A. LYRE
Our Special Long Island Correspondent.
LD VIC HUERTA, who used to have a fine Job as Dictator of
Mexico, has not altogether given up the dictating business since
he came to Forest Hills to live. A large part of his time is spent
now In dictating orders to the butcher and v the grocer so he can feed his
large and hungry family. Forty-two steaks was the order for the first
day’s lunch, and it took ten turkeys to make the family dinner that
night.
Hordes of newspapermen have tried to interview Vic since he came
into our midst, but I am the only one who succeeded. I had a beat, and
the others had to beat it. It was a simple enough matter to get an au
dience with the old boy I Just disguised myself as his old friend Villa.
As I have a Villanous look anyway. I didn’t need much make-up.
As soon as he saw me he greeted me with acclaim. My creditors
greet me that way. too, but they spell It in two words. He took me
right in and gave me some fine old Spanish wine After 1 drank a few
glasses I found, much to ray surprise, that I could talk Spanish quite
fluidly. The interview was conducted entirely in that language, but 1
had to let Vic he the conductor.
Rumor has It that Vtc brought about seven million dollars along
with him from Mexico. I don't know about that but I do know that he
brought nearly that many relatives He Introduced me to the whole
gang, and 1 nearly wore off the hinges of my tongue saying “Chill con
carne,” which is Spanish for “Pleased to meet you." By the time I got
through shaking hands with the bunch, my arm felt as if I had pitched
a whole world’s series.
You may think that it’s more or less of a Job to feed the missus and
little Reginald and Clarice, but what would you do If you had to furnish
grub for a bunch like that? It can’t be done, unless you have the in
come of a bank president or a Broadway waiter. Any ordinary pay en
velope would Just shrivel up and die at the thought of settling the
board bill for that young army.
When he was In Mexico, the food problem didn’t worry Vtc very
much. All he had to do was to requisition all the stuff he wanted, but
the canny natives of Long Island won’t stand for anything like that.
They refuse to part with anything except In consideration of cash to
them in hand paid. The table groans under the weight of the good
things that Vic sets before his family, but It doesn't groan nearly as
loud as Vic does. The tradespeople of Long Island think he Is the best
of the good things.
Even Vic’s bank roll, healthy and husky as It Is, couldn't stand the
drain 1f he didn’t have some wav of supplementing his income. In strict
confidence he told me what his system is. He just bets everybody who
comes aiong that they can't pronounce his name correctly, and he al
ways collects.