Judge — October 29, 1881 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

= THE JUDGE. HOW SWEET IT WAS. Tix and she sat close together, O, Of how aweet it was! One cold night of wintry weather— 0, OF how sweet it was! Up the chimney roared the fire And he drew his chair still nigher, With a glance of fond 0, OF how sweet it wast ire She was winsome in her beauty, 0, OF how sweet it was! And be blushed in modest duty— 0, O! how aweet it wast With a timed sort of haste And a beating heart he pl One long arm round her waist— 0, Of how sweet it wast (nevense.] Softly crept the old man nigh, 0, O! how mad he Anger flashing in his 0, O! how mad h Slowly drawing bi He elevated Up the chimney ‘mongst the soot— 0, O! how mad he was. Then, Ob, how that girl did sigh; O, O! how sad sh Deel: vehemently she'd die O, O! how sad she wa ‘Then tenderly she was By her mamma up-stairs to bed, Where hot tears alone she shed, And O! Ob!! how sad she was. was; Original American Humor. A SAMPLE OF ICE-COLD APPROPRIATION. ‘THERE has been for the past half dozen years a terrible strain on old almanacs, worm-eaten jest books, dingy files of newspapers and every possible source of wit or nonsense, by those callow, unblushing journalists who rush into print the poor, tired squibs that more timorous idiots have dreaded to steal. On this shaky basis many cheap reputations for paragraphie smartness have been built up. The “Maine to California” notoricty of S. Algernon Criball, of the excruciatingly funny Buzzardville Blowgun, was acquired in just such fashion. THe JupGE may have more to say of Mr. Criball and his bladder contempo- raries cre summer roses bloom, At this time the Honorable Court desires to put on record a recent flagrant and clean-shaved plagiarism. al weeks ago a young editor, whose in- itials hiat at the name of the proprietor of the vansville, Indiana, Argus (and who, as it is claimed in a late issue of an eclectic mag: zine of humor, “has already made his paper known all over the land as one of the live weeklies of the West”), was credited far and wide with the following bit of cute observation : “A woman can’t put on any side-saddle style when she goes in swimming. She has cither got to kick out like a man or get drowned.” ‘This we know to have appeared as “original” in the Wheeling Sunday Leader, in August, 1878, three years and more ago, and it has, moreover, a suggestive flavor of still greater age. The ambitious Indiana youth evidently maintains a scrap-book. So does THE JUDGE, and knows exactly where to turn when exam- ining the docket. | | ton What-not) for a regular built dinner, THE GREAT RETURNED. ARCH MOLOGY AND ASININITY. The unsquelchable Nevah-Di Sizznola has arrived from Europe. He eame by the Lane Route, and found it so long that it had many turns—over the bulwar! His four months’ trip was a mammoth sponge, and all the pores thereof filled by Gotham's bellows-blown Art Museum. To a reporter of the Muddler, who caught him by the flap of his imported ulster, he spoke ‘‘cheerfully” and (like a one-armed soldier) ‘in the most off-hand manner.” He said he had a high old time in the Low Coun- tries, Spent two weeks and numerous shekels in London, Struck Gladstone for a bre and Phil Owens (boss of the South Kensing- He went to Berlin, skillfully avoided Graf Bis: marck’s hound, and hob-nobbed with a brother ndal, named Contze, and thinks the inter- ‘onth, hat told he tould just married only a da half ago th hotel @ moment and see poor J On his return his rife too Pedometer out of his pocket: it recorded eight miles: he was cornered, and oened that he had walked it out around a billiard table. ,, itho teas il General (as he delights to be called) met Pro- fessor Ebers, who has almost disemboweled the land of Mare Antony's historical mash.” @ (which is Ebers’ pet name) said he lad to see him—go to Munich. after the too previous archiwologist hanged notes and some uncurrent Kleingeld with the Egyptologist. From Mu- nich, the despoiler of Cyprus went to Italy and | inflicted himself on King Humbug, who spread | a cold snack for himat Monza. Overcome by the distinguished honor, Nevah-Di Sizznola abstractedly pocketed the monogram napkin nibs. youth, who talked him up for ve use of Jeems Gordian Printit’s xtuple edition, asked the Great Returned what chin-music Humbug favored him with. ‘The General replied that His Majesty wanted | to know whether an aristocracy existed in America, and that he (the General) informed His M: y that ‘there certainly was one, as the wife of a wholesale trader wouldn't as: ciate with the wife of a retail trader.” This sort of gratuitous flim-flam is what we might | bald-headed a a pardonable wonder he didn’t try to kid the heir of the huge-mustached Vietor with the rtion that a Broadway whole- sale cordwainer was above flirting with the saleslady of a Sixth Avenue retail moceasin- ranche. — Sizznola ise fellow, and, which is more, an officc 1 is more, householder, and, which is more, as pretty a piece of flesh as any in”—Metropolia, and one that knows the flaw, and putties it up, to the eternal disgust of all good and true delvers for buried art treasures; but mind you, mas- ters, write me down a mule, if the Great Re- turned be not an ass. is Wuo would have believed that Jfadge would ever have been over-Shadowed ? SPEAKING New York body corporate, “Brush and Edison may have the lights, but we have the J say the gas companies; and if there is any doubt about it they go and sce another Alderman, “THE potato bug” is the latest arrangi ment of colors and things in ladies’ costume. Fashion will probably let that bee—till the snow bird or the Thanksgiving turkey comes in, burner looked ad her out of light looms up Wues gas superseded oil, the down upon the lamp and win existence. Now the el * | over the gas jet and enunciates, What do yer say?” ARTHUR TO 3L TRA-LA to you, Ta-ta to you, And that’s what £ shall say. Mr. Mipas oy THE Sitvatioy.—* Oh, boli- bolidig ighed Mr. Comm , the other day; “bolidigs, dy name is ion! Six gandidades for Mayor— for Gommi efery corner loafer wanting to get on der bolice! Oh, bolidigs, bolidigs!” With which touching apostrophe the excel- lent “ittle Dutchman” wiped off his chin and took another clove. Turin Caxpipates.—There are five candi- dates for Mayor already in Brooklyn, Some people would like to see the present incumbent re-elected, but wonder Howell run if he gets the nomination, Others declare that in supporting their man they are on the inside—in fact, that they know the Ropes. Still another class insist that Bla dark horse. As for Slocum, there are tho lieve he would go quick in th race. While last, but not least, there are many who to elect their man will not hesitate to kick over the Tra is the nds who be- Mayoralty «J SHALL give you ten days or ten dollars,” said Judge Walsh to a trembling wretch. “ All right, Judge,” answered the- t. w., “Til take the ten dollars!” expect from Nevah-Di Dogberry Sizznola, It’s comicbooks.com