Judge — February 4, 1882 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

| 12 THE JUDGE. ANS just let me show you hove to slide on the ] | ‘TIS SWEET. ‘Tis sweet to list the chanticleer Sound his shrill clarion of the morn And, rising from the couch 80 dear, To yawn! \ “Tis sweet, at noonday’s hneried meal, | (When hanger coverts every plate), | To take your ‘lotted place en sile,— And wait! “Tis aweet, when dally toil is o'er, And homowanl turn the weary feet, To plunge through mud and ra | n down pour And sleet! "Tis sweet to hail the pass . And struggle in the trap ill-planne | “Tis aweet to end your hon At your own dlimly-lighted And, climbing up the « , And fall | | ‘Tis sweet to find—oh, jolly lark!— | Your wife “ gone shopping "—fate foretol! ‘The fire gone, also; parlor dark And coll? Bat sweeter far than joys thus kind And nearer yet in kin— To seek a favor juz, and find It not! Pathos in Paragraphs. ‘TREVOR was a magn BLANCHE MADEL cent creature. She was, moreover, a soci belle. With a resonant clapper of her own, So all the servants said. Blanche closely resembled the scenery on a narrow-gauge, short-curve railroad, She had many romantic turns. But she never allowed concealment, like the | bird ix the bush or the damask worm in a pare | THE PRESH VERY OLD There, boys, that's the way to — boiled chestnut, to prey upon the hi enamel of her maiden cheek. Being a silver-tongued belle, she gently tolled her love. She told him that he might oscul pouting labials for his darling mamn Now, luckily for the badly 1 high-spirited Lenox Vanderbilt V: his fathe I been twice a bride he kissed Blanche for both moth And thus they were betrothed. hy room, So true love never runs fine. So it was in this memorable ii You must at once become cognizant of the fact that this growin: cy between two fondly-twining affections had not been une marked by the grave parent of our gushing heroine. Not by any manner of means, This grave parent was a professional sex- ton, who had an elaborate bluc-and-gold sign- board tacked to the mixed exter! ureof a Madison avenue church. He drew his salary once a month, and sober breaths at least three times in every four weeks. Yet was he not descended from the Trevor of Trevor Hall? And hadn't the Trevors made many hauls? If not, why not? “Who were these presumptuous tynes?” he repeated haughtily to nim: tween gin-and-seltzer hiccoughs., Gin-and-seltzer was his pulse-warmer at all sons of the year, and especially at the con- vivial seasons. Once in a while (if not oftener) he so far disremembered himself as to freely imbibe of the gin without the seltzer, On one of these extra oc an Als: If be- sions, returning ior architect: | Then down he came with aba | derbilt Van Alstyne and Blanche Madeline 7 that shook ere artisi to his domicile ‘in the dead waste and mid- dle of the night,” he encountered Lenox Van- revor playing ivy with the vestibule wall. Old Trevor took in the situation, and the opportunity he had longed for, in the twink- ot | ling of a corporation gas-light. n Alstyne, | Then, as the Last Minstrel sa ing chief of Clan Alpine: ng to the dy- “Th Within tt As all Had peal nds from heaven that fell thebanner ery of ——" Well, never mind the rest of it. [Sir Wal- ter Scott és a little too forcible in his verse at times.—Eprtor). Our own patent, machine-made poetry shall blazon the inevitable sequel. Lenox Vanderbilt Van Alstyne retired in | inglorious disorder. “Rind fate bad marked th or each other suited; He loved her with his might and m: Bat was a soul-distracted swain, When by her papa booted.” pooneys twain, Blanche Madeline sobbed hysterically; but the stolid liquidator of her millinery bills let her sob, The denouement had a curious effect on Lenox Vanderbilt Van Alstyne. He neither stood on the order of his going, nor was he seen to sit down for a week afterwards. Miss Trevor mourned like she who refused to be comforted, until her cruel parent bought her a sealskin dolman, which completely took the gloss off the one sported by that hateful thing next door, up-staii Our narrative is ret lettre. How's that for French? ailed an pied de la ENRIQUE. comicbooks.com