Judge — April 26, 1884 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

MICHAL Mary AN oug fay; bad cess to that murtherin musk « Lave your freckles alone, Blanker Than Blank Verse. “Then poem, which you may pub- lish in your paper,” said a young man, with eyes ina fine frenzy rolling as he entered the editorial door. ‘1 dashed it off rapidl an idle moment, and you will find it in a rough state, as it were. You can make such correction as you think necessary.” “Ah, much obliged,” said the editor. will give you a check for it at once.” “You are very kind,” said the contribu- tor. ‘I will be delighted.” “There you are,” said the editor, him the cheek. “Many thanks,” exclaimed the young man. ‘I will bring you some other poems.” When he got to the door he sudden! then came bac! Excuse me,” he “] anding 1, “but you forgot to fill up the check. You have not written the date, nor the amount, nor have you signed your name. aid the editor, “that is all right. , I have given you a check in its sit were. You can make such 8 you think necessary.— People's Paper. A Mean Intimation. ‘Tue dissipated Simkins told Fitz yester- that his aunt, a very pious sister of ‘ity, was dead. “Did you ever see her?” “Why, of course. responded Simkins. “Oh, well,” said Fitz, “I was only going to remark that if you never had scen her you never would.” “They looked at each other a moment, and then Simkins set ’em up,— Washington Hatchet. A Lady Who Didn't Know Beans. Two ladies, evidently from the country districts, were passing a confectionary store, and noticing several bunches of unripe bana- nas hanging in front, one of the ladies ad- justed her glasses and remarked, ‘‘ Well, do declare! Ifthem ain’t bigger string beans than I ever saw in my life.”—Z lectric Light. inquired Fitz Why do you as Mary It’s not the freckles I’m ater, but the ind of me nose Ann! Shure you'll be late to the picnic.” is not jist to! She Wanted to Pop. “Say, George, I'm going to pop ‘The young man reached for his hat with a frightened expression of countenance, and faltered out something about an engagement with a man down at the hotel. “Why, George, you ain’t going so early are you? I was just going to you'd stay a little while longer I'd pop George disappeared through the parlor s hastily fumbling for the catch- lock in the hall. “Say, Georg cried, rushing out after him. you going away in such a hurry you'll stop just a few moments long pop - But George was thrashing around in the storm-house, and jabbing the door all over to find the latch. He finally burst a hinge off und was kiting down the path like a frightened decr, when his girl stuck her head out into the frosty air and bj that she could be heard a block awa: “Say, George! if you'll come pop some corn! George came back. — Burlington Free A Pug and a Pedigree. YounG Miss Gushington visited the bench show last Tharsday, and in the evening when her own orge Algernon Outside called, she glowingly expatiated upon canine beauty “Oh, George!” she said, in the course of her pwan of jp , “Tsaw lots and lots of dogs, but the sweetest one was that perfectly lovely puggie Dot.” “Dot,” remarked George, with the eye- brow contraction of a person who is familiar with the subject under discussion, ‘I don’t remember Dot. What is Dot’s pedigree?” Miss Gushington wrinkled her pretty fore- head, and then with a sudden start sai “T don’t think he had on a pedigree, but his collar and blanket were just too lovely for anything.”— Washington Hatchet. It Was a Good Sale. this strap, mister?” small, ragged boy, with a clean, trap in his hand, whoasked this hind Mr, P——of Aurora, near Union depot in th yesterday afternoon. Mr. ‘ound to see if anyone , thank you, my b here’s a quar- ter for your hones ) y,” and he tucked the hoolstrap in his spacious overcoat pocket. It’s a cold day when I get left,” said Mr. P— to himself as he walked away wonder- ing who really had lost the strap. “Dot vas ‘a good sal d the street fakir when the boy came back to buy another school-strap, 5 cents.—Chicago News. Papa as an Artist. irl went away with her mother visit to the country. When returned she looked up and’ down the steets and at all the houses and said: “Why, the town ain’t red, is it?” “Of cou Wh that ques “Because, mamma, just before we started patell Mr. Tompkins that he Fa 1int the town red while you were in the country. I guess he must have been busy and didn’t have time to do it. Don’t you suppose so, mamma?” “Yes, dear, I do.” ‘Then there was a large silence.— Merchant Traveller. do you Three Feet Extra. that I honor his mem- ory,” remarked non the car Saturday while conversing about the death of a resi- dent of the interior Didn't he always use you well?” Yes, up to the last. “You see I was in charge of the cemetery there when he died, and the fee for digging a grave was &2. What did he do but die in January, when the ground was as hard as a rock, and leave a special request that he should be put down seven feet. ‘look me two days to drill out that hole and I didn’t get a cent extra.”— Detroit Free Press. No, I can’t say Tackling Impossibilities. ““Wity are you not more in society this winter, Mr, Fitzclarence?” said a bright girl, to a swell young man. “Aw, Miss Virginia,” he replied, la: “ society is such a boah to me. much of the inane in it all.” “That may be true, and on that account you should try to improve it.” “Well, I should like to, but I have con- cluded to withdraw and endeavor to improve myself.” “I hardly think you are pursuing the right course.” Why not, pri “Oh, because I don’t believe in attempting impossibilities, so long as there is a chance in any other direction.—Merchant Traveler. ily, There is 80 Mn. SNIGGLETON is very conceited, and during a conversation with Miss Sensible the other day, on the perfection of man, he inquired with a simpe “Well, what do I require to make me perfect?” “ Brains,” simply answered Miss Mr. Sniggleton remembered a engagement.— Washington Hatchet. ible. previous comicbooks.com