Judge — January 12, 1884 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

I thanked them for their kindness, and] told ’em that “I'd been up once with my daughter, and given. their tiquities a kursory glance, but I'd come again when Ily Mari got able to leave the house.” I you read the proceedings in the trial going on between Di Cesnola and Mr, ardent,” said the spokesman of the crowd to me. “Yes, I've read every word of it, “Whi it’s your opinion of it?” | ticular fault I’ve got to find in giving the job of patch- ing up their antiquities to a Dutchman from Holland, when a Connecticut Yankee could have done it better and made no fuss about it. I'd like to know if there is another cl of men in existence who can turn out wooden nutmi and horn gun flints like s; and as to “putting a either a statue or an. individual, re the men to do it.” for making his look as das new; I sce harm . Lonly blame him’ for giving the work to a furriner when there were men here who wore waitin’ for the job.” They applauded my ideas,'and sed they would like to have me deliver a lecture on “Art and Antiquiti the museum some time during the winter, I promised to do so; and, as soon as they left, I put on my bonnet and went over to the Lone Exhibition to study up the sub- jects there Ever : since the discovery of the ‘ ditt Giant,” I've been deeply interested in an- tiquities, and I shall be delighted to give my views and impressions to the public. sez I. sez he. figure What an Onion Did. She looked so sweet As at his fect She rested. He suddenly turned And from him spurned The girl whom a moment before he thought fit to keep company with the angels wise had— It was too And li Th ‘They have parted forever onion ‘To make ber give up the repre hensible habit of cating onions just before receiving a call from her Alonzo Take my advice, Don't try it twice On your lover; Or else you may Drive him away And kill the last spark of affec- tion in his heart, by your giving way to the de- praved and highly criminal habit of using, what he as well as others detest—onions The moral in this You will certainly miss Unless you indulge. And if you do You will certainly rue The day you were ever called on by your sweetheart, and that young man was taken | seasick all at once, by getting a whiff of onion from | those rose-bud lips he was so wont to admire. | ‘Tux people of this country have ceased to | enjoy the heavy Quarter. which still de- light the blarsted Britishers. Nothing short of fifty-cent lies satisfies the present Ameri- } allude, my dea | a puzzled look. | of the male sex. can taste. THE JUDGE. Ne iit LATE Mr. WIDE-AWAKE: BuroLar—Oh; eveuse me A Typographic Error. | “T declare,” exclaimed Mrs. Spilkins in a disgusted tone of voice, “but you men are getting too luxuriant in your notions for any- You're not satisfied with your Pall’em ‘ecarsand your Waggoner drawing-room y you must go and have boud- woir cars built for you. If any of us had asked for a woman boudwoir car, we'd never have heard the last about our unreasonable- ness and our extravagance and what not, from you men.” “Tdon’t quite understand to what you observed her husband, with “No, of course you don't derstand anything: Spilkius “but there, read that,” a newspaper towards him. it vou never un said his wife 1 she held out Mr. Spilkins took nd read the line pointed out, vi »ir ear will be placed on the line between dd Boston.” that and the in- “Observe, my dear,” he continued, ‘Mann’ is spelled with.a capital *M’ two ‘n’s’, That’s the name of ventor.”” “It’s nothing of the kind,” exclaimed M pilkins, ** ‘Ie 's only what they call an impositor’s error.” *«Com-positor, my dear,” mildly remarked her husband, Com-positor or im-positor, you can’t im- pose upon me,” retorted M in a severe tone of , and for the next ensuing thirty minutes the good old lady indulged herself, without interruption, in a virtuous denun- ciation of the extravagance and luxuriance P. Tne man who does not swear resembles certain clothing—he is warranted not to rip. CALL. T’m not keeping open house. for culling. Bostonese. Hien o'er the Where stern Enphrastos plumes his wings, While by the pure Castilian fount Cephalia softly sips and sin Ther his hy Great Atropos hi And heeds no more the storms that beat In doubled thunders o'er our heads, un mount eat treasure spreads, Ob Atropos, majestic nan One boon T crave One spark of that ce That animate one bh al ‘our modern Tyield, P bow: 1 know 1 The hi wher ri, and from his t One lambent ray respo Which, dartii A hitherwa An Absorbed, re T thrill w The Thi on my brow i st hh west 5 of recursive time superm! O extant bl e who ut T know the O1 I'm one of you “Bet are you sure she'll asked Duflix of Frink, who was just ubout |to “pop.” “Accept me? You bet she will! She's like my clothes—ready-maid!” cept yo the most amorous That is the waste | THERE’s one waist th: | post doesn’t care to hug. | basket.