Judge — January 23, 1884 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

ALBERT PULITZER. Tue Jupor this week presents his readers with a peculiarly life-like portrait of a parti- cularly live young journalist, Mr. Albert Pulitzer, of ‘the Morning Journal. Our artist has depieted Mr. Puli act of journalism, grasping the implemen| of his craft in either hand. And so well he wielded these weapons that his paper, the “A Tale of Mystery.’ ‘Tur wind was howling flercely, And heavy fell the rain, Upon the wind , As John Thomas Spout, the luckless, And sought shelter from the storm. ‘The house was rather breezy, And the wind it whistled through, For the windows ventilated, And the roof was airy, too ‘Through many a cold, dark passage And musty corridor. Qur hero walked in silence— Hush—was that sound a snore? John Thomas Spout felt chi And his hair began to creep. And in his slender bosom, too, His heart began to leap. For throagh the thick’ning darkness A figure white uprose, And phosphoric light was shining Around its mouth and nose, Journal, stands to-day a very substantial monument of pluck, business energy, and wide-awake, far-sighted journalism. Its su has been almost unparalleled in the et in the very | newspaper history of New York, and it de- serves it, Cuan we say more? We trow not, and so we introduce Mr, Albert Pulitzer to our readers, And these solemn words it uttered, With voice low-toned and deep: “Hath thou come here, oh stranger bold, To wake me from my sleep?” And through the broken window now ‘The moon began to peep. “What art thou? Speak!” John Thomas cried, ith cane and voice upraised; “If thou art man, speak out at once, And may the saints be praised.” Then spoke the thing, in merry tone, “ Methinks thou art a Quaker; But now, to save more waste of time, T'll tell you: I'm a baker. “But what's that light about your nose?” John Thomas Spout inquired. “It is tobacco in a pipe, And it has just been fired.” “Indeed!” our hero now replied, “I'm glad we did not fight; But, as the storm is over now, I beg to say good-night.” Murray Hite parvenus have made flash jewelry so common, that even prize candy The Infant Year. Ou mystic babe, that scarce hath breathed, ‘Thy tender eyes in sleep still sheathed, Wilt tow be“ happy " toot Hope wishes all a bright New Year, Faith stems each tide without a fear; So much for thee to do. Human misery, old and sere, Believes a change with this New Year, And thou, sweet babe, so young, Must thon too age, and castoff be, Whose birth all nations hail with glee, Be old to every tongue} How long wilt thou be loved as “* New?” Scarce one twi ere falls the dew On thee, helpless and lone, will forget to help thee walk, Will not take time to hear thee talk,— What wonder should a tone From thy lost youth soon pierce their hearts, As their abuse, misuse imparts A New Year's barren crown, Oh hearts, be hearts of red blood warm, Shelter the infant year from storm, God sends his blessings down, Bonafide, Borrowmore Blower's Letter to The Judge. Havin by careful and continuous read- ing found the history of Jehoshaphat, and made myself tolerably familiar with it, I braced up for the occasion by taking ‘an of otard at dinner, ¢ for a postponement of the important family story that I could think of; and, as as showing great guns outside, there was no human probability of an interruption; so, preceeded by Mrs, Blower, I took my seat, like a school-boy prepared to recite his lesson, and commenced, dear, was a man of great ability in his day, and’ his father early discovered his pre . He had other sons not equal to the little Jehosha- phat in intellect, therefore he used to make a companion of him even when quite a child, ask his advice, and take him with him ‘when he made long journeys from home, which showed the old man’s wisdom.” ae ve hea native of this State?” asked Mrs. B. “Goodness, no! Haven't I told the lived in a foreign country, aw a “How many generations back?” Mrs. B. «That I can’t exactly tell. I only know that Jehoshaphat’s father’s name was Asa, and his mother’s name Azuhah, They had wars and insurrections almost equal tc our civil war, plenty of bloodshed, and all that; and at the age of thirty-five, Jehoshaphat became ruler. He was chosen by the peo- ples I think, and he made a very good ruler. fe was a good, pious individual; perhaps not quite stern enough, but he was very generally liked, and there were very quiet, peaceable times during a part of ‘his ad- ministration. He had to take up arms at one time to quell an insurrection, and so his enemies found him as able in war as in peace. He soon quelled the disturbance, and, after peace was restored, he turned his attention to ship-building. No doubt he was as remarkable in his day as William H. Webb and John Roach are in ours, but he n’t have the tools to work with. Still, packages have ceased to contain hundr dollar diamond rings, or breast-pin lanterns. he built some very creditable vessels and made occasional trips in them himself.” comicbooks.com