Judge — May 3, 1884 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

as the mantel lady, closely gave place y clock struck the veiled, ascended the steps gave the beil just the weakest little pull possible. Mrs. Spilkins arose from her seat, and went to the door just in time to head off the servant girl, whom she peremptorily dispatched back to the kitchen, Slowly pulling the front door open, she stepped a little way lady entered the vest ment was in Mrs. Spilkins fe “You artful-hearted, shamele faced hussy!” cried Mr violently by both shoulder yearning and inappeasi husband, you dep! of yourself, 5 to come to th brazen- g her “so you have a tion for my ppease it for you, Aint you ashamed wicked woman, is house on your-vile and scan- dalous errand, to eliminite (she probably meant aliend my husband’s love from me, and to bring dis; virtnous houschol: her with a violen te every bone in her 0 you thoi va peaceful and in she shook . Spilkins read. your "pursued Mrs. S., her , and waxing still more wroth at the recollection of it, “Oh, no, my de is now of my pocket, where it has been ever s' left it Ilow dare y house, I . to be band with your sir you will find that there is at you and your deluded victim; and a pre substantial one too. Oh! yes, my charmer, Mr. Spilkins is a married man, « it out too before he is many ho for him, t ha! ha!” cried Mrs. S. as her husband suddenly door, motionless with holding his wife eng pparently in violent. struggle with strange womg Now had come the crowning hour of her triumph, the supreme moment of her ven- geance. Again she uttered the monosyllabic notes of con! © the post-man 1 come to. this sk you a; 8 older, the old reprobate. “Ha! at the mishment at be- doux before Mr, him rush into the 3 But first let us have a peep at this pretty face of yours by which ‘my Jeremiah’ h: nso captivated.” q erson, whom Mrs. S. still held firmly in her grasp, whether speechless from astonishment at receivin, > unexpected a welcome, or overwhelmed by a guilty con- scien this while uttered no word, and had been as powerl child in the hands of her enri at. As Mrs. Spilkins uttered the |: he tore the veil from her victim’: confronted her with a look of atred, triumph and contempt, which she intended should annihilate her on the ood heavens! Matilda, is it gasped in the next t had Mrs. Spilkins come from surprise and mortification at that moment. ‘The intrusive stranger was Mrs. Spilkins’ sister, who had merely dropped in, as she occasionally did, in a social and friendly way, to take dinner with them, TW Ps not our first parent Adam a tiller of We believe so; he was ; $ too early to be the tiller of a ship. me not. But that apprehension suddenly j t THE JUDGE. 1 ABOVE AvPLicaNt ror Posttiox—* J understand that you need a cashier, Banker * Do you smoke ‘es, sir.” No sir.” ApPLICANT— Banker Very well, sir. Have you a widowed mother to support?” chew, drink, swear, and play cards?” er been connected with a Sunday-school as teacher or superintendant ?” What church do you belong to?” Never go to church at all.” You are engaged to go to work at onc (And the firm congratulate themselves upon securing a man in whom they can place implicit confidence.) Tom Jones, the Boy Who Built My Fire. Tam a man of quiet and unobtrusive habits; extremely fond of a good novel and the laxury of a’mild cigar. Having for a long time wasted my eloquence on the dese air, in fruitless efforts to persuade my land- lady that she had offered to have my fire built gratuitously as an extra inducement to the purchase of the room, I finally con- cluded to procure a boy to perform that oftice, and placed the following card in the “Howler,” a weekly periodical as devoid of interest in any sense of the word, as a fourth mortgage bond on Patrick O’Flanagan’s shanty: TANTED—A BOY—Of poor, but dishonest arents, on reasonable terms, to build fire, Please address A. H. Witxes, P. O. Box 113, or call at 118 Park Av On the following mornin; publi- cation of the advertisement just referred to, while pursuing the routine of my daily occu- pation, i ct with a strange individual somewhat shabbily apparelled, who swaggered across the street, and, in the most familiar way in the world, extended his hand, and exclaimed by way of intro- Jones—Ike Jones they Jke for short.” After this preliminary effort he heaved a sigh and continued: “Taint much as fur as *pearances go, though my father, Mr. Wilkes, was Squire Jones, who lived an’ died highly respected by the community in which he sot himself at work fura livin’, But that’s neither here nor thar. What I was a comin’ at, was this: