Judge — May 27, 1882 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. Its rage in Shantytowen—and why should not Mr. Muldoon disport himself in this way ax ee as other handsome men? OUR POPULAR PARCES. OUR POLICE PICNICS. REPORTED BY “ED.” CHARACTERS: PoLicemaN No. 103, SaLoon Proprietor, Bar-KEEPeR, Various Citizens, SMALL Boy. SceNE.—Dutch Beer-Garden (No License). (Curtain rises upon tableau of a bar, sixteen tables filled with beer and beer-drinkers, and a blatant band playing such distinct- ively Teutonic airs as “ Mary Kelly's Beau,” ‘See that My Grave's Kept Green,” and “ Major Gilfeather.” (Enter Poticeman No. 103.) Proprietor.—Vot vos it—gin und vichy? Policeman 103. w, not just now. it till later. I want yer to buy a ticket, Proprietor.—Mein Gott! vos you on dot racket again? Policeman 103.—Wot d’yer mean ? Proprietor.—Vosn't I pought a dicket off init you for a Minnesota fire? Policeman 103.—B'lieve so. Proprietor.—Vosn't I pought vun for an actors’ fund? Policeman 103.—Cert. Proprietor.—Und now you vant me to puy another dicket? Policeman 103.—That's just me. Proprietor (resignedly).—Vot for ? Policeman 103.—For the benefit uv der foree. We're agoing ter have an annual games and summer night's festival of the Second Platoon. We're a—— (Enter First Crtizex.) First Citizen.—Is the officer who is upon the post here? Policeman 103.—Yes, I'm him; what d'yer want ? First Citizen.—You. Policeman 103.—Wot for? First Citizen.—There’s a desperate fight upon the next corner. Policeman 103.—Who's fighting ? Policeman 103.—Let ‘em fight it out, I've got ter sell tickets for the picnic. First Citizen.—But they may kill other, Policeman 103.—Let ‘em kill, we'll shove dere bodies inter der next precinct. First Citizen (enraged).—But are not you paid to protect life and property, to guard the peace, and protect the public? yet you are not upon your beat. Policeman 103. —Young feller, yer are too fresh; I know wot I'ma doing, I'm obeying orders, and don’t yer desremember it; I got to sell just so many tickets fer der summer- night’s festival, and I'm going to sell’em. If I sell more than der rest I stand a good show for roundsman. Yer sce dat door? First Citizen.—Yes. Policeman 1 Den get out of it. Go stop the fight if yer wanter yerself, Hear? (First citizen does hear. Being perfect'y well acquainted with the balmy ways and zephyr-like actions of our police force, he dis- appears very suddenly, thereby probably sav- ing his family his funeral expenses.) Policeman 103.—Dat fellow was too fresh, as I said before. I'm on the beat, Il ran it myself. Dutchy, how many tickets will you take? Proprietor pooked for? Policeman 103.—Say twelve. keeper. (Bar-keeper, cho has been trying to con- ceal himself in the ice-chest, upon pretense of looking for a bottle of plain soda for a mythical customer, crawls out with a white face. Bar-keeper.—Well. Policeman 103.—Yer boss has Boneh a dozen tickets. Yer orter-— (Enter SMaty Boy ) Small Boy (in tears.).—Boo hoo! hoo! boo hoo! Policeman 103.—Wot ails yer? Small Boy.—Is you a copper? Policeman 103.— I b'lieve I look like it. Small Boy.—I want yer right away. each (timidly).—How many vos I Here, bar- boo Policeman 103.—What for ? Small Boy.—Dad's drunk. Policeman 103.—What uv it ? Small Boy.—But he’s a-lickin’ mudder wid the bed-post, and has chucked the baby into the oven, He'll kill mudder. Policeman 103.—Have you a warrant ? Smatt Boy.—No. Policeman 103.—Then I will not interfere. ‘Tell yer old woman to go to court and get a warrant. Bounce. (SMALL Boy ezits, in tears. Policeman 103.—The idea uv dat kid inter- rupting my ticket-selling. I'll lay for him. and if ever I catch him playing ball I'll send him up for ayear. Here, bar-keeper, I want to sell you a ticket. Bar-keeper.—How much are they? Policeman 103.—Half of a dollar. Bar-keeper.—I can’t afford to buy any. 1 only get twenty-five dollars a month, and I've got to support a family upon that somehow. Policeman 103.—So you won't buy none? Bar-keeper.—I can't, really. Policeman 103.—All right. Yer are on nights, ain't yer? Bar-keeper.—Yes. Policeman 103.—Then you can just wager dat you will be inside of Essex Market inside uvaweek. Sell liquor after one o'clock a. ., will yer?) We'll sec. I’m on nights, too. Suit yerselt. (Makes an elaborate note in his blank- book.) (Proprietor scowls at BaR-KEEPER.) * Proprietor.—Shakey, Shakey, you want to Puy some dickets for der ruint my piznesss. sake of meinself. (BaR-KEEPER hesitates. ZEN.) [SEconp Citizen presents a very disreputable appearance, and is not at all fitted for a quiet social party. His eyes are blackened, his coat is torn, and his nose is bloodied. Second Citizen ( panting).—Where is there a policeman? Policeman 103 (impressively).—Here! Second Citizen.—I want you right away. Policeman 103,.—What for? Second Citizen.—As I was passing the cor- ner, I was assaulted by a crowd of ruffians, They took my watch, diamond stud, and all of my money. Policeman 103.—Serves you right. Second Citizen.—Why? Policeman 103.—For wearing a watch and adiamond stud and carrying money. I've got no sympathy for you, Second Citizen.—But if you hurry you can catch them. Policeman 103.—Catch who? Second Citizen.—The robbers. Policeman 103.—How do you know? Second Citizen.—Because they are upon the corner, two blocks off, dividing the spoils, Policeman 103.—If yer think Iam a goin’ ter go two blocks away to catch a couple of thieves, you are very much left. I’m selling tickets for der annual games and summer- night festival of the Second Platoon Municipal Police, at the Empire City Colosseum (form- erly Jones’ Woods). Billy Christie, of der Tenth precinct, is president; Roundsman Sweeney, of der Twelfth precinet, vice presi- Enter SEconD Crti- First Citizen.—A couple of drunkards, comicbooks.com