Judge — October 6, 1883 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. The Boiled Shirt. We would like to know what sort of an idiot the man was who conceived the idea of the boiled shirt. We would like to speak to him calmly and coolly and point out to him where he was wrong. The flannel shirt is sensible, useful, warm and comfortable, but the boiled shirt is a whited sepulchre, and a starched expensive ornament, of no use what- ever, It isa vanity, and taken in connee- | tion with the modern collar, a vexation. | To begin with, the boiled shirt has no shape or style about it; there was some tone about the ruled shirt of our ancestors, but the shirt of the present day looks like a pil- low slip with a drawing string at one end of it, and the bottom cut out of the other end, Then there is an absurd tab at the lower end of the breast with a buttonhole in. We have often wondered what that meant. We don’t know whether it was intended as an appropri- ate place for the owner to inscribe his name, so that if anything should happen to him | suddenly the coroner could tear it off and identify the man, or whether it was merely ornamental. We judge it as merely ori mental, however, in consequence of the but- ton-h as the most careful research has failed to find a button to fill it. Then, look a world of contingencies have arisen | of the creation of the modern boiled shirt. In our grandfather's days the collars nd cuffs w tacked on, and the sleeves were made of a length approximating to the ngth of the arms of the wearer, Now’ we have to buy separate collars and cuffs, and siSeve-buttons, and gum elastic bands to hold our sleeves up (as they are generally about six inches too long), and we have Chinese laundrymen to pay, and altogether it looks like working for a dead horse to own boiled shirts. We do not want it to be understood | that we desire the civilized world to retro- grade and practice barbaric customs, but our | society days ure over; we care not what the world may say, and we believe it would be a | relief to several million gentlemen in this country if the boiled shirt was barred (some | of the flannel shirts are already barred), and | the plain -you-please unbleached mus- lin shirt of our forefathers, with collars and cuffs attached, adopted.—Githooley’s Etch- ings. “Warren, wh of my"pi is this mark on the side why, certainly, sir. That ma at is the print of my thumb, sir. Just had my thumb in choco- late served the other gent, sir. Meant to have called your attention to it before, sir. Cut it out for you, sir?’—Burlington Hawk- eye. Dox’r faint away in an editorial room. The fellow who tried it got sprinkled from the mucilage bottle. He felt so stuck up that he had to be sent home in a Herdic.— Boston Post. A Papen steamboat is soon to be launched in the Ohio river. They'd better not make it of blotting paper if they want any river left. Burlington Hawkeye. ‘ Tere really seems to be danger of Mas- sachusetts becoming Pierce-proud; but, un- der the circumstances, she may’ be easily forgiven.—Boston Transcript. . | ° | Miss Karr Frexp believes in hot water as acure for dyspepsia. Well, yes. You let a | man get into hot water and he'll forget all | about dyspepsia. —Boston Post, | Iris certain that a river cannot run dry.— | 0. Picayune. | the funny papers. I sa; No Ticket for Him. “Loox here!” roared a tall chap, attired in a broad-brimmed hat and an innocent air, as he approached the ticket window of the Brighton Beach Railroad ye noon. ‘* Look here, you, I want a first-class ticket on the top shelf car to the other end of this line, and don't you forget it! See this?” and he developed a horse pistol and stuck the muzzle through the window. “T see it,” replied the agent calmly. “I’m looking right at it. Now what can I do for you?” “ Didn’t you hear me bark a few minutes ago?” demanded the tall man.“ Didn’t you hear me compliment you with an order for the best you've got in your workshop ther Have I got to put a bullet in there to make you comprehend that I’m waiting for the upper row of preserves? Must I tuke the blood of another station agent on my hands before I manage to get what I wan Throw me out the most embroidered ticket there is | on the line of this road, or 111 commence to make vacanci The agent carefully closed the window, stepped out at the side door, picked up the tall man, set him down again on his head, whirled him around three or four times and | then kicked him under the gate and out into the middle of the street, where a police- man gobbled him and hustled him off. “Am I awake?” asked the tramp, rubbing the dust of the conflict out of ‘his eyes. «Never mind , am I alive?” “What did you want to bother the man for?” demanded the policeman, hauling him around by the collar. “T didn’t want to bother him. I only meant to scare him. I had no money to go to the Island; so I played the Western man on him, just as I have seen it written up in y, either these papers are the darndest liarson the continent or else I missed the combination on the gag!” And they locked him up to think over which might be the case.—Brooklyn Eagle. “Don’r like the bed?” said the hotel clerk, astonished at the presumption of the | complaining guest; “‘ why some of the best yee ple, some of the hightonedest folks in the United States have slept in it!” ‘Yes, that’s just the trouble,” responded the guest; ‘I found last night there were alto- gether too many big bugs in it for the com- |fort of common people like me.”—Boston Blanket-Sheet. Cnorvs of excited boys—“ Then the light- ning struck you?” Skipper indifferently. “Oh, yes; Iwas leanin’ agin the mainmast when it struck it.” Excited boys—‘* Didn’t it kill you?” Skipper, more indifferently, “Wal, no; it all ran down my back.” E cited boys— And what did you do then Skipper, most indifferently—* I had to haul off my boots and pour the lightning out on the deck.”—Life. Dio Lewis says: “Americans should go to bed at nino and get up at five.” Now what nonsense is that! How can a man get up four hours before he lies down?—ur- lington Hawkeye. Tue editor of a Northwestern paper feels grieved because on receiving an invitation to an agricultural fair, the paragraph as to entries for a hurdle race for mules was marked in blue pencil.—Boston Advertiser. “Gneex? do I understand Greek?” said a jolly German. _ “Vell, ven I vas a leedle poy I always svim in dot greek inshteadt of ot riffer."—N. ¥. Com. Adv. “ONLY A PANSY BLOSSOM.” ut, Vietorine, my pc girl, how you have chinged!” “Tt is because I have just he has come from the dentist’: pulled out two of my t and then a bad the first time.” But it doesn’t matter. onable; he only made me Paris paper. | Me was very pay for one A COIN used among the Malays represents a value equal to about the millionth part of the American dollar. If this country had such a coin there would be a newspaper for sale at that price, and it would be d at that price, too.—Cin. Sat, Night. ‘ew York firm has in press ‘The y of the Discovery of America in the rom this it would appear that r. Columbus, who discovered this country in 1492, lost i again, America was smaller and it may have dropped through a hole in his pocket.—Norristown Herald. “Dip you ever think what you would do Duke of Westminster’s in- re pastor: put T have sometimes wondered what the duke would | do if he had mine.”—London Baptist. Boston has 304 electric lights, and yet lots of prominent citizens still continue to remove their hats to the old-fashioned lamp- Sat m.—Burlington Free Press. Ir there is anything that makes men feel murder- ous, it is the spectacle of a fat dude. comicbooks.com ES EE Somcihcmcae