Judge — September 23, 1882 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. NGRY BROOKLYN BRIDGE. Naw Youn. Sure hes a terrible eater now; but ichin he's grown he'll be a great comfort to me."* innocenteyed, fair-haired boys who were com- pelled to gaze upon them day after day shudder to think of it. The tendency of my old pastor’s sons to crite puzzled me no longer. The cause was writ upon the wall in lettersoffire. Their own father had tempted them, and now they were drifting to destruction with memories of maroon-colored Jacobs and yellow Abrahams and vermilion Isaacs seared upon their brains, figuratively speaking. This is not intended as a sermon. Indeed, my line is scarcely in the way of pulpit- pounding, but I cannot forbear a word of warning—several, in fact. Oh, ministers and men of grace, banish | these incentives of crime from your walls ere it be too late! The Bible chromo ha3 a power for evil that ye wot not of, and by the memory of the late lamented Samuel J. Tilden, I implore you to put them away: a “bar” OUR POPULAR FARCES. OUR HORSE MARKETS. REPORTED BY “ED.” Cuaracters, Mr. Borer. Mn. Setter. Finst Carrer. Stcoxp Carrer. Scese—Bullshead.—Mr. Seller's Stable--Time, almost | any time. Mr. Buyer.—This—this is a sale-stable? Mr; Seller.—Yes, sir. ‘Ave you called to h’ascertain h'about the b'advertisement h'in the "Brald —The ‘oss was h’advertised as for sale at Mr. Mr. S. (prowly).—Well, Wi, h’am Mr. Seller ‘im- self. Hi pat the b'advertisement b’in personally. Hit reads as follows (produces cutting, which Mr. B. reads). “For sale at a great bargain, to close out the estate of the late James Fiction, the celeb eye, age 9, by Rysdyck’s Hamt Ann my Daughter, she by McGuire’ ¢ Tomahawk ; dam Glass-eyed Blinkeye has a record of 2:21, trotted at the Fashion Course, Alaska; is not afraid of the cars, and can be driven by a lady. Call at the private stable of Mr. Seller, Bullshead. Mr. B.—That is correct, sir. Mr. S.—IWi guess bit i. Hit h'ever I knew a ‘oss —t'and my experience with ‘oases bas been h'extensis —that ‘oss caught my h'eye at once, H''ll be blowed. “HWikey,” Hi says to vun of my ‘ostlers, if Wt had the cash H'i'd keep the ‘oss myself. He's a bloomink daisy, h'and 1 know that b'if Mr. Fiction ‘ad lived he'd a-sooner parted with his leg than ‘Blinkeye.’ Hey, Hi'key ed trotter, “Blink- n, dam Mary ssi (Approach Frnst Carrer.) First Capper.—Vell, sir? Mr. S.—Bring bout * Blinkheye.” [Finest Carrer does as bid. “Blinkeye” appears. Srooxn Carrer strolls in carelessly.) Mr. S.—Show the gentleman his paces, Hikey. Valk ‘im h'up and down fora vhile. There's style. Look at the h’action of those legs. See the poise of that ‘ead. Why, it’s vorth an ‘alf ‘oliday to see him valk. Mr. B. (impresse:t).—He does walk very well. say his record is 2 Mr. S—His public record, but Ii will not deceive He can do better. Hikey First Capper.—Vell? Mr. 8.—What time did * Blinkheye ” make when we were h'out h’upon the road yesterday h’afternoon? First Capper.—2:20 At. Mr. S—Who was he noticed by? Pirst Capper.—Frank Work. Mr. S.—What did Me. Work say? First Capper.—He said “ Mr. Seller, ‘ang on py dot horse for day afder to-morrow, and I bays your own vigures. Mr. S.—You see, But it was just my bloomink luck! this morning comes h’onlers from the b'executor Wot Mr. Fiction’s h’estate to sell bim at h’any sacri- fice. The h’executor be blarsted, H1'i h’ejaculated. Mr. B.—Ile's gentle Mr. S—Asalamb. Mr. B.—Does not scare? Mr. S—He vouldn't scare at a vaggin load b’of brelephanta vith glass h’eyes, b’and Hi believe he thinks a locomotive his best friend. Mr. B.—Can he be driven by a lady ? Mr. 8.—Bless you, an h'infant could drive him. But of course a gent like you don’t wants him for family use. You yo ‘Train him properly, b’and Hill bet he'll make some of the hacks take his dust. Mr. B.—What's his price t Mr. S.—You must make the first h’offer. Mr. B.—Well, say—say four hundred. Mr. S. (astounded).—Four ‘undred! Wikey, lead the ‘oss back to the stable, Four ‘undred! 'Eavens t ITT believe if the brate could ‘ear it, he'd kick Hikey’s brains h’out ! Four ‘undred! And Mr. Fiction paid two thousand for him, and chuckled over his bargain. Second Capper.—Excuse me, but is this horse for aule to anybody Mr. S.—Certainly, though the h’other gent has first choice. First come, first served. Scconit Capper.—Ot course. Beg pardon, but I was looking about for a horse like him myself. He seems ‘4 good one, and I would not mind giving six handred myself. ‘Mr. S—Six ‘undred! You're as bad as the b'other gent. Hil be blest bif Hi vouldn't "it the b'animal in the ‘ead with an band blank the b’executor be fore Ii would let bim go for that, Mr, B.—What do you want? Mr. S.—IV'if Wi was selling him myself, not a cent #3 than fifteen ‘undred, h’and then Hl would ‘a to be very ‘ard h'up. But as it is for the b’estate I says thirteen ‘undred. Mr. B.—V11 give seven handred. Mr. S.—It would ‘ardly buy his ‘ide. Second Capper.—Vll give eight hundred, Mr. S.No, sir. First Capper.—Der vos a shentlem morning, said h hundred. Mr. S.—Stout man? First Capper.—Yes. Mr. 8.—Beard? First Capper.—Yea. 1s bere py der vould be pack, vot offered Mr, S.—Leave his name? First Capper.—No. Mr. S—Address? First Capper.—No. Mr. S—WYVI wager it was Bonner. H good mind to not sell the ‘oss, to wait a wh if he will come back. Second Capper. over there, pl Mr. S.—Yes, sir, Scconit Capper.—Me's a good sire; one of his get trotted a mile in 2:13 at Fleetwood the other day Mr. You m Dashaway 2" Secon Capper.—Believe 80. Mr. He's a full brother to this one. He's a twelve-year-h’older; didn't develop his speed till he was h Think h’of it. (First Carrer brings the horse up. examines it carefully.) ve got a nd eee sense. Just walk the animal He's by Rysdyck Hambletonian ? Secosp Carrer Second Capper.—Mr. Seller, more offe Mr, S.—What ? Seconit Capper.—Nine hundred. OR, Will you let it go at that, sir? I will risk you one ELLER turns fo MR. BUYER.) Mr. S. regret it, Mr. BN thousand. Second Capper (regretfully).—Sorry, bat Twill have to pass. Nine hundred was my limit; though actually now that I'm out of the game, I belleve the horse is worth fully fifteen hundred. Mr, 8.—More; but Hive got to obey the h'e He's yours, sir. (Mn. Bover pays for the horse, and places tt in charge of @ stableman, to be sent to his residence.) Mr. B.—Good day, gentlemen. You'll if he is as represented, 1 will give a cutor. Accity chap wandering around in an an- cient country cemetery noticed particularly the old headstones, dating back to the early part of 1700, and after deciphering a moss- covered, roughly-hewn, cherub ornament stone, exclaimed, ‘ By thunder ! here’s where the Scribners got their idea for a cover.” ——} comicbooks.com