Judge — February 25, 1882 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

t | | | take great pleasure in stating to press and | public his prompt and efficacious response to my suggestion. (Interval of @ month. Meanwhile the Death-Trap Buildings have successfully fallen down and killed about a dozen people.) | Scene Last,—Coroner's Inquest, Foreman of Coroner's Jury.—We, the jury, find, to the best of our belief, that the death: of the twelve persons killed at the falling of the Death-Trap Buildings were due toa visi tation of God, and as the testimony prove- that the owner, Mr, Millionaire, had com plied with all of the requirements of the law, we hereby absolve him from all blame. (curats, | Gosling Grandeur. BY TARANTELLE. | Ot Isaac Taffecheimer, who was given to latter-day society by one of those tremendous and inexplicable freaks of fortune which come upon an inoffensive world, was eating his breakfast alone one morning at nine o'clock, and was thinking of the time when, asa young man, he was striving to win his bread. His sons were in bed, either up-stairs at home or some- where else. Ie sipped his tea, wondering as wellas exulting at the luck which had made him and his sons wealthy. Well did he remem- ber when, with a pack on his back on a coun- try road, he nibbled his dry crust and ex. changed tin-pans for old clothes. Those were dreary, dusty days; but now he exclaimed to himself, as he saw the first quarter of his | crescent nose reflected in the silver teapot, “I | can make the howus smell mit three kinds of | fish, Ant yet,” he said, “my lofely poys is beating the olt man. Lowesa," he cried to his fat wife, as she came downstairs, “our race is blaying owet. Vot vos we? The cratest soldiers in the world. We vos smash- ers, and now the poysisonly mashers. ‘There was Joshua paralyzed the sun, and it shtood still a little vile, There was Gideon dot | slayed men, and David who slung a sling. But here's my poy lazy that they couldn't jump a bounty if it was in a hole in the kround.” | And Lowesa replied, ‘ Isaac, they are very young.” **Oxcuse me, Lowesa, but I vill make Lefi a soldier if I have to hire a substitute, If there comes another war he must git a con- tract forsitoes. Butthat is notall. The race | is blaying out. We was the greatest philoso- | phers. Theze was Solomon in all his glory. He was so wise that seven hundred wives could not spend his money for him. We will fit out our Jakey for a Solomon. He must stop dot mashin’, cut the big bunches of whis- kers parted in the medium, git a bigger gold chain, and go intothe shirt business. Py and py he can git married, have elefen children, and sit out on the front stoop in his shirt sleeves, and amuse the neighborhood with a voice like the horns at Jericho. Maybe when he owns a whole strect he can see his own grandchildren’s mothers hangin’ themselves or Ulack ter show. the pedelothes out of every wintow on the plock. Lowesa, Jakey shall be a Solomon.” “But, Isaac, Jakey is very young, and has only chust pegun to wear plaid pants.” “No matter, Lowesa; the race must not play owet. I suppose it costs me fifty tollars a year for garlics, aud yet. those poys hardly ever gita smell of home. Lowesa, there was once a Samson. He was so strong he carried away the gates of Gaza—carried them twenty miles and sold them for old iron. I've fed Sammy on garlic soup and garlic stew, put he isn't strong. He couldn't git away mit a cou- pet tack. I'f' filled dot Sammy up to his chin mit the pest Limperger cheese imported from one of the stinkinest towns on Staten Island until he ought to pe strongk enough to preathe a hole through a trade dollar. I'f gif him sourkraut from Hunter's Point that vos so strong it could lift a mortgage from the Rocky Mountains, and yet he hasn't the strength to giftwenty-three buttons for two dozen. We are playing ont, Lowesa, ‘The Samsons is all gone. And there's Benny, too, our nineteenth poy. He's up in ped, doing nothing. I red of a goat the other day that swallowet a dia- mond pin belonging to anotherman. . Lowesa, I'll puy that goat and call it Benny. He might have been like Elijah, the prophet, but he's all loss. All he cares about is to go town to a peer saloon and play fifteen-ball pool, when he might hang out three balls and pool all the issues, Lowesa, I'm disgusted, We was great musicians once, but Benny'll never own an opera house. We was great orators, but Benny couldn't. knock down a pair of gloves, same hand, not mates, to the highest pidder, Lowesa, I don't care if the next one isa girl, My heart is broke, and I must be off to business.” Ware a woman giv is it because she cannot na bit of her mind, cep the peace ? THe best parts of some of our theatrical performances are the waits between the acts. 7 see, mum, I bunked my eye agin der handle ob der door, an’ Lrchitened it a bit, kase I didn't want dér Ficaro wants the French government to suppress the crying of false news in the streets of Paris, Should this be done the res dents of the gay capital would be forced to go from home to hear the news indeed. In the utter absence and childish innocence of any- thing approaching news, the Paris paper is only equaled by a paper hanging, sans tint or design, No wonder the Parisian newsboys try to put a little life into their moribund stock in trade by crying what ought to be, but never is, found in the thing miscalled a newspaper, A LATE writer very neatly and forcibly says that “not a new spindle is set in motion in the South which does not bring that section into closer sympathy with the North.— Yon- it till Anna Dickinson gets down that way, if she won't intensify that sympa- thy a thousand fold then we are a poor judge of spindles, that’s all, You can grasp a pretty woman's meaning without taking hold of both her hands.—£r- ratic Enrique. That's so. Take her by her nose. If she means anything at all you can get at her meaning pretty quick that way. We know somebody who has tried it. Two brothers named Hart were arrested at Rochester the other day for conspiring to beat a soldier's widow out of her pension money. Mow truly the poet anticipated this thing in his memorable lines: “Two souls with but a singie thought, ‘Two Harts that beat as one.” Tue unsuccessful lawyer has come to re- gard his profession rather better in theory than in practice. Satya grace before meat is all very nice you only happen to have the meat. comicbooks.com