Judge — December 15, 1883 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

ud thrill & ” Yquess pt was wad when he ach the ‘bills Fated to Mystery. counds at lof night.” “The sr and the misshapen coffin.” woman and the blood-stained What happened last night at Isiterime or spirits?” was the di ful heading in. the daily Bellows, which lay upon my bre: table; and the report which follov carried out the promise of the luric lines. [t was indeed a tale of horror and mystery, and all about me and my house, for I live a Some people like to be mysterio make the world believe that they a some way beings out of the ordinary run of humanity; but for my part, Th + desired to go along smoothly r attending to my business, paying my debts, living like ‘a Christian and “a good * AWPUL weird stra citiz It is not my fault that nature has given me a dark complexion, a hollow ve cadaverous fy and a tall and attenuated form. The livid across my face, which vives it such a strange and sinister express- lon, was not received in a duel, or on an awful night of blood and death with red-fire and slow-music effects. It was produced by the kick of a one-eyed mule on my f truck farm in New Jersey, when I i As a matter of fact, I have no awful story in my life; and have never done anything | more mysteriodsly dreadful than to work in a tannery and sell sole leather in the Swamp. | Bat, for all that, something is always put- | ting me ina false light before the commun- ity, whose good opinion it has been the aim of my life to secure, and casting an unjust and offensive glamour of romance about my really respectable life. Last week, when I returned home from | business, [ found a crowd congregated on the side walk in front of my house. I had only lived there a few days. The crowd parted as I approached, and I overheard the remark, ‘‘ There’s the queer man that runs the haunted house.” My house haunted! What could it mean? Then I heard a doleful sound; something THE JUDGE. Pu saad Wereatitt | Lal Wb too aaa he Wis “nvad shriek, proceeding from my re lence: then a ery of murder! hed into the house, overcome with fe: ‘s sake, 1 called. i “Oh, dames dear, brother William » this morning. Tam snre T didn't He has by T said, in a se tone: ¢ 80 often prophesic e has got a fit of the delerium tremens, and ome to my house to enjoy it. You must send for Aunt Sarah to help ke care of him.” Just then [heard a fall on the floor over my head. 1 what that m nd hurried up-stairs to the unfortunate victim of alcohol. In a few hours we had the young man in a tolerably comfortable condition, nnder the care of his aunt. Aunt Sarah had a great ngry boil on her nose, poor thing, and had come to the house with her face wrapped wp ina thick veil, partly to hide the red and swollen condition of her nasal dl partly to keep the cold from compl the troubles of that aMicted member. My wife’s brother, William, double bass the church of the Seven i n; that is to say, he had b temperate as to disgust the mu mittee. The very night that Willi lected my house to have his delirium tremens in, an expressman brought to my door a huge black box, and this note: Wittias Winns. Sin: used Your persistent non. | attendance ot service and rehearsals has made your T herewith return that you will some day pur present mode of life, HETNOVEN STUBBS. It was long after midnight when Aunt Sarah came down-stairs, thi with a bundle under her arm. iNliam is sleeping quietly,” she said, “and T am going to take his clothes round to the house. to fix them up, so they will be ready for him see the And ther’ Serysrt ae, ani nowt aa a WO ron Aan nd- Spo e) ets ama aul ake Ls ' posed in a wing to what dreadful straits too much Shoppin a AS Nese the wast when he gets ab awfnl state.” off, so, as T her go alone. nt again. They are in She only lived alittle way ‘ould not leave the house, I let It was the next morning that the startling headlines apy in the daily Bellows, and IT was called upon to explain ‘the veiled woman,” the pen coffin, the ghostly cries, the blood-stained garments, and all the rest of it toa police official and e or two of interviewing reporters. Of I set the matter st but Tam in my neighborhood, ng to my name and place of residence. I shall move, and make one more attempt to live a plain and unromantic life in anew neighborhood nd if any more mys- sries eventnate, T shall give up the strugg into the business of piracy; start as lizing medium, or get a position as public ghoul in a cemet ovonox KYLE. Tue Camden (N. J.) Post is pitched two or three octaves higher than the general run of suburban jour! It is a paper that we are glad to see on our exchange table, and we never open it without finding something good in it—which is why we like the Camden Post, ‘ Empty vessels make the most_ noise,” is proverb that can scarcely have been com- -beer saloon by a looker-on among ‘full Dutchmen. “Fixe feathers make fine birds” was probably said before the present rage for her trimmings rendered handsome plu- ze the most perilous birthright a fowl conld have. Tir wages of sin is death ” will be more universally believed in as an adage when an- other half-century or so has left nothing but a memory of the municipality of New York city. Ir seems hardly appropriate to speak of a solemn book as boundin’ sheep. comicbooks.com