Judge — April 26, 1884 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Musha, but he was roight, an if ivir oi’m found guilty of interfaring in any was wid the passingares insoide me cair, may I be evicted from me foine apairtment nixt rint day. [Note.—Whoile writin the abuv M hez been a looking over me shoulder. Sh at lasht takin hersilf to bid, but not befoar she too ceused me of being a fool. “That oi am,” sez oi, ‘‘and it’s a fool oive been ivir since I left off me hod carryin and tuk to paying rint for an apairtment and a sale shkin sack. The mintion of the sack always makes her | as mad Marich hare, and now that she’s takin herself off in a rage oi’ll shmoke me poipe in pace whoile I meditate on the fool- Ishniss uv condhuctors in giniril and uv | Pathrick O'Callahan in particulair. Smith's Dinner. Wuex I came home to dine last night My wife received me smiling, And greeted me with te And glances so beguiling; I brought by chance Tom Jones to dine, And he said, For wife had such a nice repast, Such tender lamb—and duckie, der words, mith, you're lucky And made herself so ph int, too; I saw Jones thought her charming To me her mood, I must confess, Was utterly alarming But when she softly took my hand, I staked my life upon it, That there was something in the wind Besides the new spring bonnet. Great Scott! what can the woman want? I must be fierce It can't be either wrap or gown, nd steady; She has them both already, I've given her an opera box, Her wicked will in flowers, And yet she’s wanting something else— She is, sir, by the powers. “What is it, love?” I whispered soft; She pointed to her earring, And murmured “Diamond! Tiffan; Gad, that’s what I’ve been fearing A diamond bracclet, earrings, pins, Dear Jones, as I'm a sinner, T'll have to pay a pretty price For our most sumptuous dinner. Scattered Sapience. TuiNnGs don’t progress so fast that you have forgotten the Lasker resolution, and the nine-days’-wonder it created? Well, I was at Washington, day before yesterday, and, overhearing a conversation at a bar be- tween two members of Congress, the whole matter was illuminated for me. ‘* Now, tell me,” said one of them, “where is this Lasker, anyhow? I understood that Seward bought and paid for that territory long ago.” ““Ah!” replied the other national legisla- tor, ‘this is the name—ahem—not of the territory itself, but of a condition of things ich sirose—do you follow?—from the pur- e of Lasker. You see, Bismarck bought it in on that occasion. Understand?” “Perfectly; it was simply then ”—— “Precisely; a question as to the right of entry. FAvespnorren. Harp To BaRE—the small boy when ready for a swim. ALPINE, S| ROSES\ NEXT a 7] ietoN NATURAL THOUGHTS. Mrs. Farmer Brown— ‘Well, what do we want to see “ Alpine Roses” for? That's the kind we bought from the agent last spring, and as for “ May Blossoms,” ‘why you can find them by the bushel down behind the barn on the hill side. dollar out of us for those things. America’s ‘‘ Forty Immortals.” Dear Jung I am the editor and pro- prietor of the Bushtown Cricket. Probably you have never heard of my paper? A great many excellent people never have, and yet it is possible they may be happy. _ ‘The Cricket is « paper of extended literary influ- ence, and our pressman is willing to make affidavit that it has a bona fide circulation of 480 copics, and subscribers are coming it the rate of two and three a month. Now is the time to subscribe. One of my esteemed contemporaries, hav- ing proposed an American Acadamy, similar in design to the notable French Academy, and invited its readers to vote for forty literary persons whom they considered worthy of being the ‘Forty Immortals” in such an institution, the happy thought occurred to me to ascertain the preferences of the They "don't get any Cricket’s patrons on the same question, and compare the lists voted for. The number of votes received was large and gratifying, evincing fine literary judgement on the part ‘ou will see by annexed list ures at the right of each name indicate the number of votes reccived: 1. Private Dalzell (who has written more and published less than any other Immortal living), 47 “ Many Ci The sweet singer of \ Vox Populi, 466. Dr. Mary Walker, who is writing a book about her sex, 463. Pro Bono Publico, 460. Buffalo Bill, 459. Veritas, 455. Peck’s Bad Boy, 45 “Old Subscriber,” 448,