Judge — April 19, 1884 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

w Ov On Old Sol is an artist who Mem: As airy and graceful ast 'y paints me her portrait better zelle, As chang sweet as the asphodel, With heart as tender and true as—well, As tender as her own letter, And therefore it is when my fancies wake — [‘em, And grope their way from the mists that blind Though thick t For they know Who hath not g On rizon there's nom actly the way to take azed back "till his e3 irl he left behind himt balls ache The Modern Farmer's Catechism. Do sou believe that the moon has any in- nce on plant growth? one worth mentioning. The he staying out all night, and getting full a once a month, has dar 1 her reputation to that extent that her influence is on the wane. What do you think of the chinch bug and his future Don’t like him; manners not unobtrusive enough. Never met his future; but, if not more unobtrusive than the bug himself, don’t like that either. Do you advise a rotation of crops If ¢ gently, may be beneficia Out West crops are sometimes rotated by means of a cyclone—not advisable. What would you do with the moles that injure the apple trees? Apply the molecular theory —expressly, invented to exterminate moles. If a cow should acquire the habit of chew- ing her cud, how prevent? ‘ot likely that she will; but, if she does, give her tobacco to chew instead. Does corn, as a general thing, do best in hills? On them would be better, we should think, unless the soil is ungovernably poor; but better consult the Cornhill Magazine. Is the late Mr. Greeley a safe authority on farming s the late Mr. Greeley is no longer living, he is a perfectly safe authority—consult him without fear. Would you advise irrigation—that is, with water? Irrigation that is with water may be well enough in the abstract and Arizona, but the ~OMENT And yet it is pl THE JUDGE. The Easter Treasure Ship. there are when my memory stirs, Moments of fa of meditation, hen my soul goes wir ing its way to hers er the ocean that, like a curse, Rolls its chill depth ‘twixt my home and hers, “Twixt my hope and its consummation. nce more I am reading her soft blue eyes, Velvet blue, like the arching their depths for unuttered rep rt of a pansy, » the passio te questions hot hearts devise— ing on folly; it cannot be wise To nurse a distempered fancy. sant to stroke her hair— pen at this distance I still can do it; I can gaze across at her picture there, The sun bas painted ber passing fair— Sad substitute for the things that were, Poor “est” for a glorious ‘ fuit.” Others, no doubt, have their fancies like me, Zephyr-born fancies this soft Spring weather, Crossing the swells of the pitiless sea, Each with a mission, whatever it be- for some “not ii Seeking possible she” Perchance, Let them cross together, We all bi Some hidden grief, some untold emotion, th The hopes, the struggles, the wishes we've had— our secrets, or sweet or sad, Let us send them ov pod and bad, ‘They'll alike be welcome, the grave and glad, As hearts from across the ocean, 0. FEsor, human throat, for example, is neither the abstract nor Arizona. Willa ring in a hog’s nose prevent him voting, and how would you go about it? You are wild here. Rooting, I suppose you mean, not voting; and how would you go about what? rooting or voting? or keep- ing a hog from it? Overhaul. When the Colorado beetle gets into the cabbage vines and plays the deuce, what remedy? Don’t think you ever will sec him play the deuce. Colorado gentlemen usually manage to hold a better hand than that. ~ Do you believe the Alderney pig will ever take the place of the Southdown as an agri- cultural implement? May for wool; but the Alderney pig must be content to remain the mutton of a very distant future. . Do you believe in watering stock more than twice a day? You can’t water stock too often if you are careful to keep on the same side of the trough as the directors. Was not the illustrious Washington a farmer—and must not every farmer thrill with pride at the thought? Mean George? Yes, invented the Geor- s; but every farmer is no longer compelled to thrill with pride at the thought—law re- pealed by the fast Congress. Was there not an air shear plowman, Robertburns, who wrote some useful works on agriculture? Yes; his Tam O'Shanter used to be the Pennsylvania farmer’s vade mecum till Lord Johnbright wrote the Heathen Chinee, a work which contains all the modern im- provements. gi MACKE, AND PICK HIS TEETH AT THE ASTOR HOUSE. Thomas Screechlouder, Jr. ‘Tue back yard fence is bathed ina golden glow of backward spring-time. A genus female-feline sits on the topmost rung. She is lazily stroking her whiskers, and wonder- ing idly what time in the gloaming Thomas Screechlouder, jr., will be around. She likes “Tommy.” It is thus, in ten- der moments, she addresses him, She likes him, in her young, untrammeled, scratch- my-back sort of way—almost loves him, she softly whispers in the privacy of her corner under the kitthen stove, as she questions her blashing face in a tin pan—almost loves that wild, canary-eating, good-for-a-good- deal Tommy. Thomas Screcchlouder, jr., came of poor but ornary parents. They emigrated to this country from Albany. Mr. Screechlonder, sr., often relates with a hearty purr, how, one dark and stormy night, when all was quiet on the Kinnickinnick—how he shaved off his moustaches and crossed the lines. He neglects to say how Mrs. S. got through, but she evidently did, for here it was that Thomas S., jr., was born. He first saw the light of day in a coal shed down by the Mill Creek Bottom Fill, near where stands the Last Chance refreshment parlors with pure yellow pine box lumber sawdust on the and tripe on the sideboards. Then follows * * * —, for not much is known of Screechlouder’s kittenish days—not much else than that he quite early betrayed a phe- nomenally vocal propensity and was admitted to a kintergarden. We next hear of the subject of our sketch comicbooks.com