Judge — December 29, 1883 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

AFTER MARRIAGE, No shirt and lots of buttons. Borrowmore Blower’s Letter to The Judge. Yes, a fine mess they have made of it naming the boy Jehoshaphat, and the difli- culty is not setiled yet. Last night, the first sound I he: entering the ‘nursery where the youn sucki his fist was, ** Bor dear, you haven't yet related the hi your unel “ What uncle? “ Why, Jehosha “Tnever said he was m in tones rather inc “Tsupposed he 1 of course he ¢ Mrs. Blower, sharpl “No, but he might be aunt’s sister,” [ replied. This audacious pun pat her in good humor and she said, ‘‘[t is the real, authentic history of your ancestor Jehoshapl want you ‘to relate, and you keep put me off, and putting me of, till Lam afr: I shall get impatient. Why, the little fe Jow will be of age before I know who his namesake ws what great deeds he s rd on Je’ wmor ory of I replied, nant than otherwise ight be your uncle, as nldn’t be your aunt,” said my (ancestor) us have dinner, then I may perhaps be in a better condition to relate the historical deeds of my renowned ancestor,” I said, and Mrs. Blower yielded and accom- panied me to the dining room. When there has been a diversity of opinion between us T have always made it a point td hold out, even ifwrong. If I didn’t, the whole system of matrimonial authority established, would be destroyed; and then that I have carefully | ‘0 your hus! is a divine command. IT found it in the Bible, and marked the for future | reference, while I was looking up the history of Jehoshaphat, which, by the way, T have {not yet found, So, to post myself, [ have | commenced enesis, and I’m afraid I | shall have to read the whole Bible through by course to get what I want. I have read carefully as far as Deuteronomy and find | plenty of jaw-breaking names, but no Je- hoshaphat. All through dinner I puzzled my brain trying to concoct a history that would fit into the Blower tree; the best I could do | was to affirm th: aphat was a clever fellow, and was toadied in society as the brother of one ** Nancy Phat,” ‘brated for | her great weight, both in poctry and song. After dinner I was marched into the boudoir by Mrs. Blower, and seated in the | ‘Turkish chair with a cushion for my feet. Then she seated herself in front of me with mouth and ears wide open, eehared to listen to the thrilling tale, when the bell rang, and in rushed Bodkin with tickets for the opera at the Academy. +‘ Bodkin, you are a godsend,” I cried, |shaking him’ warmly by the hand. “If | there is one above all others I desire to hear in the opera to-night, it is the divine Patti. Come, Mrs, Blower, don’t sit there staring at the wall, but hurry and get on your traps.” But what about Jehoshaphat?” she asked, in a disappointed tone. | ‘Oh, hang the old fellow; give, him a , dear, till some other evening when we larealone. His history will keep, you know.” “wives submit yoursely pass: «And repeat itself in our dear little boy,” she said, as she arose reluctantly to get on her things. “Let us hope so,” I said devoutly, though | I don’t know whether he will turn out to be | a worshiper of idols, or a good and pious in- dividual worthy of the honor conferred upon him as the namesake of a scion of the house of Blower. Christmas Memories. NELY seated in my attic, static, From the spirit of the season Who controls us on this d Christmas morni His fat person past « ‘Through the lattice ‘cross the way, Watching him with eyes external, But wrapped up in thoughts «upernal That have raised my elevation Myriad miles from prosy Brown, Gone this life seemed so odi Poised aloft like old Asmodeus, T look down int) Of my fancy on the town clatic Still between my lips reposes The small germ of vanished roses, Briar-root hight, and wrought with cunning, To contain the fragrant weed. — own and vision, ays, still clysian— y from duns and dunning, This is holiday indced. yon smoke wreath frames a vision, And ny smile Las no derision, As I trace the grotesq Of the Christina From the mist the clown Steps before the ball Did I call them | In my boy! features pantomine. dvancing, "x dancin pa creatures,” p's golden time? No; tome it a Tinsel gems to my I] was real, ideal, Aladdin's palace, Decked a beauty like a star. les then were golden, ground, unbeholden, Still defied time and his malice, ‘To display them as they are, ‘airer thay Well, we live and learn by living, And the knowledge life is giving, Like the Israclitish mann: ows by keeping over-ripe. has little left more sterlin n yon misty halo, curling From its bed of hot Havana, In my little nut-brown pipe. I have lived to sce illusions, Rudely broken; life’s intrusions, Daily needs for board and lodging, Put all sentiment to rout | I have lived ‘midst idols shattered, ved to learn how hopes are scattered; Lived a life of landlord dodging, Lived to find that pipes go out ©. u sessor. AN. exchange Is Mr. Langtry here?” Why? Langtry is, and is not | that enough to 'y even the most curious? What is Mr. Langt but an | appendage to a well-s ty? Min1on—The theatrical supe.