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

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

THE JUDGE. Alonzo Busbee: His Life and pressions. Im- BY WILLIAM UILL, It droppeth as the gentle dew from Heaven | Judge Hilton. | much hurt? inquired a sweet | 1 opened my eyes and beheld a vision of loveliness bending time to take in the fa 8 F nose up to | hair of that poctic hue which vulgarians have | dubbed “carrots;” a petite neck énd bust—oh! yum yim! when T closed my eyes again overcome by the pain which shot h my right arm: [ must huve fainted, for when Funclosed my optics once more the | fairy-like form had vanished, and in its place | stood a fat old woman, with a squint and a strong smell of whisky. “ Where is she?” T asked. was the anawer el that was here just now; with the ruddy gold-dipt hair.” “D'ye mane Bridget—sure she’s gone to the shebeen beyant to fetch the beer for din- ner.” Bridg What a name for a Fetching the dinner beer! ‘ ecul- pation for a Hebe who should be serving the Gods with nectar, or swells with champagne ina wine-room, ‘Where are Bill and Jack, and where am | I next ventured to inquire ‘Who the divil’s Bill know; but where ye are now, me honey, is in the house of the dacent and respectable widdy | of Dan Malone—rest his sowl—in the town | of Shanty on the Rocks. | T afterward discovered that the crash, ete., to which [ alluded in my last chapte caused by the explosion of a “ Burglar L troyer,” anew patent which Bullenbear b that evening affixed to the door of his bed- room, so that any one fooling with the han- dle thereof was likely to learn by personal experience t he was destined, in a re- markably short space of time, to depart from this mundane sphere and seck a permanent location in that land where ‘ we shall part to meet no more ”—or words to that effect. Such was the fate of Bill and Jack; as for me, I was sent, by the force of the explosion, | flying through’ window and landing on the outside of the fence, where I was found at an early hour, insensible and with a broken | jorers who boarded | at the Widdy Malone’s shanty, whither they brought me, and where I had remained in i comatose state until I awoke to find ai fairy Bridget Malone bending over my straw pillow. Tat once told Mistress Malone, when she asked me how I came in my deplorable s| the truth. I said I had: been: driving butcher on when the horse took frig! and ran away; I was thrown out and the fall must have broken n ter to tell the truth if ityhas the effect of making you feel em- barassed at the time, it is sure to do you good in the long run. Being a good simple-minded old soul, who | never dreamt of getting drunk more than twice a week, the widow swallowed the butcher wagon and accident as easily as she would the pint of beer adorable Bridget had | k, [don’t nything. Even | and suburban quietude?“The town of SSS A BACHELOR'S BLUNDER. Bacnenon Jownrn country. Of course, home. nd Mi gone for, and told me she had sent for a doc- tor to come Oh! the happ neath that tomat since then in marble palaces, s brick edifices, palatial flats ‘and in jail, but Iam sure the three weeks [ boarded and lodged in Widow Malon Rocks, yielded me more pure joy than I have | ever experienced since. Who could fail to be happy amid such a scene of rural peace ty | was most picturesquely situated; each house | stood on its own pinnacle of rock, the inter- ing space being filled np with goats— Williams and Nanettes—the soil was most fertile, and yielded, in abundance, a never- failing crop of old boots, battered tin kettles, cast-off raiment, patent medicine bottles, sardine boxes, brown paper, manure heaps, Prolif stagnant water, and drunken Irish laborers. Everything had its use—the goats fed on the tin kettles and brown paper, the drunken men fell into the pools. [ would sit on the front stoop at even-tide—when I | became convalescent—with Bridget at my side, and together we would talk over the | pictures of the Police Gazette, and Bridget would say thut when she grew to be a mid-, Mant Mr. Jowler insists on | off W arrive on the same train from the rrying her satchel and seeing her safe dle-aged woman she would join the ballet, and I would express my determination 9 become a cow-boy, get on a jamboree and ride through peaceful townships in the far- stern plains, fire off my revolver in the air and frighten women and children into fits. By this time we were deeply, des- in love with each other, and gistere ow that when I was twenty- one, and had become a thorough “ tough,” I would snatch an hour a from the de- lightful occupation of laying men out with a sand bag, to come to her ancestral home, and marry her. The dear old widow, when sober enongh to articulate, would smile and “Faith, thin if Bridget would only wash her face, and ’Lonzo had a dacent sate to his pants, there wouldn’t be a purtier couple betune here and Harlem!” At other times we would while away the happy hours 'y y rocks at the neighbors’ goats, or setting the dog on the Italian ragpickers, whose v ion brought them in our vicinity. Sometimes we would wander down to the North River, sit on the string piece of a wharf, and fish for black bass and salmon with a bent pin and a piece cf thread. We never caught any fish on those occasions, but nearly always a good thrashing from Bridg- comicbooks.com