Judge — December 29, 1883 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

time; 21:14 4 FarMer *, thank you. the new, arcording to the 24 hour system, and by the town clock 9 Farmer Brows—W hat time does the train for Bungtown start? T AGENT—Well! it starts at 9:45 by the old tin W:14 by the new; by old (Nore.—Farmer Brown now occupies a cell in the insane asylum.) the THE DISCURSIVE HRISHMAN IAS AN ARTE an’ THOLeNT. moi addition to the remarks I had last week about the big gun, ther may be two pints ov the d touch upon, an” Trish at th me forg them the more st First ov a © wor th immorth + Which m Inventions in General and Particular. kinny cats did afore *em—faught away till 1 to offar | th’ rinowned Dhanhey hunted th’ Rom or | over the say ontil th” Al didn’t | his bare-futte kes |in their oul »risin’, | breeches, widhy I Irish | modhern figareys othin’ but th’ tails left. An’ lo n, from that day ontil th’ ns 8 stopped him an’ n’ green or other hin’ in th’ line invinshuns about Phown Mick Cool | of waypons but pikes and big long speers Dha ould Fineens an’ th’ Ianrbor, which took ‘pla Melishuns, thousands and pious Saynt Path Frinch eyes on th’ gre field t ein th’ days h Dhown, Kunnmann Maol, the | about tw rate battle of Vinthry | th’ thundering fighte f th’ | shipped nothin’ but th’ sun, moon ar and didn’t care a thrankeen for theolo; *| which th’ Irish knew nothin’ | whin they | th? mountair ) monic, | they set up a | orthority when I wos a | plainly herd at the other side of th’ Alps, | assisted at the performance of Faust last feet | ), but thim wor yroes who w stha: nor the divil himself, Lord save us; wos sayin’ ubove, the Roman saved thimselves from total dis- n by hidin’ in caves in th’ Alps about, an’ ne thandhering to th’ fut of an’ found the inimy all gone wl of vingence which was bhoy) without saisin, night. nune or mornin’ | altho”that same hill is sed to be not less thin ontil out of th’ half mullun of saints who comminced it—an’ ’tis well known in his- thory that not won of ‘em was less than ate | cl sowl left but won or two grate cham) whose names I forget; for they acthaally | glory |siven moiles in hoighth, an’ twos verry moment, as luk wud have id, that th’ | h : uds opened of a suddint an’ down fl fect an’ sum inches high—there wosn't a | broight sthrake of loightnit at that and sint poor eons | Dhanhey to iternity in th’ hoight of all his An’ niver sich a funeral or a wake with it anywa since as th’ grate Irish King had on both land an’ say, for almost th? whole Irish nashun, min, wimmin an’ childher, sint to meet th’ corpse; an’ they say you could hear th’ weeping, « , caoineing an’ wlagone- of all th’ crowd of Irish Pagans in chorus frum won ind of Ireland to th’ other; an’ shure th’ King’s wake lasthed a whole month, fur they imbalmed his body in ordher to presarve h, whin they got tired of cryin’ an’: all other kinds of fan W’ grief an’ divarshun | to show their sorrow, they berrid his body at Crookawr y’ th’ funeral wos twinty-five streatching thru roads an’ fields over planes an’ 1 of th’ prosesshun niiched th’ ould churchyard or berrin place of th’ Trish Kin Whel, th’ other ind | was twenty s away, an’ faith, all th’ gravey nd couldn't hould th’ crowd of Pagans that assimbled to show their respe ’ vineraslun an’ sorrow for th’ |: an munnark of all Ireland. An’ | that i ore than kin & dof anny Chris- thian King that iver rained there since, not | even excepthing Byran Boru himself, who giv th’ plundheri * red-headed Danes sich a tirrible bateing at Clontarf. An’ in ordher to set all doubts at rest regarding | this matther, divil a wurd of a lie is in th’ hole. thin r shure M ogegan, an’ d Tom Moore an’ s tell th’ whole hory as gospel thruth, altho’ not a sowl of m knew annything at all about it, save an’ | except what they had be hearsay fram others who lived afore them. An’ more betoken, they kin pint out th’ grave of ould Dhanhey at ould Crookawn churchyard to-day, altho’ not a morsel of the grate King himself is to tell th’ story, far manny a year an’ has passed by since thin, an’ more’s th’ pity, for iv Dhanhey wos in Ireland to-day divil a care he'd care for the Pope of Rome or th’ Inglish government; an’ be me sowl, he'd wollop both of ‘em out of th’ ould as he walloped th’ Romans long afore I rest his brave Pagan sow! in glory THE O'CALLAGUAN. pa Mr. Spilkins Visits the New Opera House. Mr. Spilkins visited the Metropolitan Opera House the other evening. Mrs. S$ had been invited to go, but she decline She wouldn’t throw her money away j| hear a set of ow i bawl alot ¢f gibber head or tail out of, she remarked con- temptnously; and when her amiable spouso mildly suggested that it was his money that would be thrown away and not hers, she | merely contented herself with a disdainful toss of the head and the quotation of asume- | what old and familiar proverb about a fool | and his moneys 60 Mr. S. was fain to depart | alone | So T suppose you went to the opera,” she observed at the breakfast table the following morning, in a tone of disgust which plainly indie: n of such a proceeding. “Yes, my dear,” replied her husband, *T her opin night. That is the polite term I believe, being the more correct and wxsthetie. “T don’t sce what anesthetics ha r to do * she remarked in a disparag- ing tone of voice; ‘one of your opera terms I suppose; bat T never knew the word meant that before. So yon assisted, did you? did what th’ ould famous an’ fightin’ Kil- | wos seen all over th’ whole wurruld bifore or | Precious little assistance you could render, in 6 6 comicbooks.com