Judge — April 26, 1884 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

in the middle of the night and go running all over town looking for Dr. D., because no other will do? hood. After it is all o1 and fatherhood and moth re full of joy over childhood, who smiles like a saint, and feels like the devil when everybody says:—it looks just ts papa! Why, poor, gentle, unloved ing fatherhoot who gets u a dozen times durin t, and puts so | pps of parag in so much wate colic in a baby that never any more than the se, who is sp the next room. How he wishes the “ wind on the little darling’: would form itself into her out of bed. Fatherhood 1 ular old chum whose name he wants shim flush with joy to think of the many times they have drank the health of the first boy that should come to cither of them, The one that got the name it after the other. He to motherhood, who receives it with She wants to mai it after sister fellow, he is so nice, and they are ms! hat in the and is kept F Y future he is to ta ‘ond place, around the hoi or revenue o In spite of all this he out among the boys, singing: Thave got a baby, hahaha, Have a cigar Such a little darli alata Have a drink In the world another like him sweet and fair, els Mamm Have k 1 everywhere. 8. B. Mr. Spilkins is Made the Victim of a Heartless Joke. A STORY IN THREE JOKELETS. Joxener I When Mr. Spinkins returned home to dinner that afternoon, his wife still wore that air of preternatural calmness, whi under the circumstances might seem omi- nous—dreadfully ominous of some dark and sinister design, which she harbored deep down in her soul eace of her innocent and uns! ting spouse t vou told me, Mr. Spilking, ked, almost with an approach s they seated themselves the table, “that there were no ladies at that | party last night.” Mr. Spilkins instinctively felt, ways did when she addressed him Spilking, or love, never used. by he ironically, that something unple about to ensue. But he felt relieved never- theless, for he knew that these endearing terms in d that hér manner tow him would be of an icy and dignified polite- Had she simply addressed him ab- ruptly as Spilkins he would have feared the worst, “So did, my dear,” he replied. “T thought you also told me, Mr. Spil- “that Nora Darling was ness. so it is, my dear,” he answered, hin THE JUDGE. ei “NEVER MIND ME, DOC, PM TAKIN’ WHAT PA DOES WHEN HE this little slip should have caus didn’t blush, she continued, spea tle more pointedly: Me. § , do songs write notes “Well, no—they are generally written in notes,” said her husband with a little laugh at his own wit. “1 wouldn’t joke, Jeremiah, if I were you,” she remarked with a slight touch of severity in her voice.‘ Levity hardly be- comes a man of your—— s.” She had evidently intended to use some other word, but changed her mind. “Mr, Spilkins,” she said, this time with increased significance, “do songs invite peo- ple to come to their arms?” “<1 suppose they do—sometimes; that is— the words do,” laughed her husband. “Ol that isall,” she remarked ina care- less tone of voice. This is what she said to him. What she said to herself wa “Perjured libertine; base dece! sed liar.” if she had only asked the ques- tions from a mere idle whim, and felt no further interest in the peculiar characteris- ties of songs, she changed the subject to something else. Mrs, Spilkins, shortly after dinner com- plained of feeling unwell, and retired to her own room for the night. ‘I declare,” ex- claimed the good old when alone with her feelings, ‘I beli I should have scratched room any longe To see him sitting there and smiling so innocent-lke—oh, you vil- shaking her fist at the counterfeit entment of her husband which hung the mantle-piece, “you bold, bad, ked man. You needn’t tell me,” she continued, still apostrophizing the picture, “that the nele: ure wrote that note without receiving sufficient encouragement from you to do it; (which, as Mr. S had no intention of doing anything of the kind, would seem to be aneedless injunction) she’s after his money, no doubt, for what she can see in him beside that I can’t imagine. I’m sure that all J ever saw in him was his money; and I’m not ashamed to confess it either; the viper! But Jeremiah al had a weakness for a pretty face, though I never thonght it would come to this. but as he king a lit- er; self- his eyes out if I had staid in the For | walk off, you walk on— ‘8 TOO FULL a man of his years to be playing the part of Don Juan, ora gay Lotharium, is simply rceful. I beheve, if it wasn’t for the of the thing, ’'d—I'd get a divorce, She said he like Apollinaris—that’s the man that makes the water I suppose—bat if he isn’t any better looking than Spilkins, I don’t think he need feel very much flattered by the compa for that other cove she mentioned, if he hasn’t more brains back of his brow than Spil he must be a noodle. Ugh!” Mrs, Spilkins, having by this time appa- rently unburdened herself of her wrathful indignation, undressed herself and went to bed, soothed to sleep at last by the delight- ful anticipation of the vengeance she would take on the morrow, in the execution of the purpose she had formed for visiting upon the heads of her faithless spouse and his frail partner in guilt, a dire and well merited retribution, TMF. t any ns, How I Lost My Watch. Tit show you what a really first rate New York pick-pocket can do. Listen to me— Thad a watch; well it something more than awatch. It was a first rate instrument, told you everything, days, weeks, months, hours, minutes. Had been in my family for generations. Thought so much of that watch, sir, I never took it out in the street with me; I thought I might lose it. But the poor old watch got out of repair, wouldn’t go, so I took it to a jeweler to be repaired. By gad sir, it was stolen out of my pocket on the way down, though I kept my hand on it the whole way down. Well, I offered twice its value as a reward, if it was restored, and.promised to ask no questions, Of course, the fellow who brought it said he had not stolen it, but when I paid the reward, and told him I would let him free, he confessed it all. “See, Mister,” he said, “you were going down the street and your hand was fis tight on your pocket so. Said I to myself, ‘Something there, hey!’ You moved to a shop window, looked in, I tickled you on the neck like a fly, your hand up to brush me off, mine in your pocket; trick done, I D comicbooks.com