Judge — June 7, 1884 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

2. I'm de stermined to know before I sleep another wink—one o'clock! Jehosa- phat! hennery jumpins! one o’clock! but— snore, why don’t I snor And I snored like a seventeen-horse-power vibrator, run- ning throngh all the chromatic sc inable, and soon I became as hoarse as a charcoal vender. Just as my poor asopha- gus began to show 8 the door trembled under a thundering ri rap, rapatirap, de rapatirap, tap, tap, H rapati “Hello!” I cried as I rushed to the portal | and cramed my car into the keyhole, “hall “No snoring in” stood motionless) ‘this hotel!” I sank into unconsciousness, and when I recovered I found myself on the floor in a cold perspiration, ‘The clock across the way struck four. “Ye gods, sighed. I rose and shivered; putting on my hat and collar I dashed into the corridor. ‘The night watch delicately called my attention to my scanty attire, and, returning, I hastily improved my personal’ appearance before rushing down four flights of stairs into the office. The register failed to enlighten me— I was mad, I was insane! I flew to the desk and hissed into the astonished clerk’s face— “What's the name of this hotel?” Ile looked at me and my robe de chambre attire; smiled, and winked at the porter. “What's the name of this hotel?” I screeched, regarding him with flashing and protruding eyes. This hotel,” he said. “Yes, yes, this hotel—what is ic?” shall this never cea: nu didn’t.” I did; this Weta: “You're a lying hypocrite! He looked at the porter, grinned, and sig- pped his forchead. became raving, frantic, savage, foaming at the mouth; and, leaping cross the desk, I clutched the fellow by the throat. He cricd lustily for help, but_my nervous clasp closed upon his windpipe like a vice. No help for you, you infernal lying rapscalion!” I hissed; “tell me the name of this hotel, else I strangle y you!” ‘This hotel—it’s name ”—he gasped, ‘is this hotel—This-es Hotel—Mr. This is the propri—etor—oh—hel-p.” The electric light seemed to be extin- guished that moment; a green flame shot ross my vision, and as Pallas hid Odysseus in « cloud, so was my consciousness buried in oblivion. * . . . How long this state of affairs lasted I know not, but. when I recovered my senses I found myself i in the arms of two men who had H. D. on their badges, and an ambu- lance waiting at the door. With the greatest difficulty I explained the matter to Mr. ‘This’ and the clork’s sat- isfaction, and, after promising to liquidate the expenses ‘incurred by the necessary re- pairs on the latter’s throat, and “ settin’ ’em up all ‘round,” I was finally permitted to retire and cogitate over my adventure at Mr. This’ Hotel. A YouNc fellow who was courting was at last permitted by his lady love to kiss her. In telling a friend of the ecstacies of the blissful moment, his friend asked: ‘* How did it feel?” half beyond heaven.”—Pittsburgh Chronicle- Herald, ymptoms of rebellion, | (my cardiac apparatus | 1] ‘«Sust as if I was a mile and a/ HUMAN NATURE; Table Talk. “Way should Ibe very fond of this beef- steak?” asked the pale, thin young man at the boarding- hous table, “T give it up,” said the fat_ man empty- ing the cream Jug. it’s something to adore!” oh, ah! I see where the joke hinges,” said the Professor, buttering the last flap-jack. “Why couldn’t it be used as mone: asked the bloated capitalist who pay board regularly. A thrill of horror ran through the assem- bled boarders as they realized what was com- ing. id the capitalist in a firm voice: “Tt wouldn’t be legal fender.” “Why is this steak likea Texas cow bey?” asked the summer boarder from Dallas, “Because it’s a tough,” answered the masher, ogling the pretty widow; ‘ give us something we can’t get away with.” “Take the steak,” shouted the table en masse.—Detroit Free Pres. Mrs. Murphy’s Great Improvement. “Now, gintlemen,” said Mrs. Murphy to the boarders before they had concluded their evening meal, ‘<I hearsan’ sees by yer looks some complaints ferninst the food ‘phawt I gives ye. Am I right oram I wrong, sors?” All smile and look silently at each other bat say nothing. “‘No answer. Very well, sors. Now I'll tell ye phawt I’m goin’ to do. Av course it will be a great expinse but I’m determined | to plaze ye let it cost phawt it will.” OR, IS IT DRY? “Bravo! bravo! Mrs, Murphy! ble’s you! "—"* Generous woman’ all pay up Saturday night!” and other ex- clamations of delight rang out from the boarders’ throats. “Yis, I’m determined to plaze, I’m goin’ to be aqual to the fashionablest hotel in Newport, I am.” “Good!” a minute an’ hear. I like ye allas if ye was me own children; an’ I'm goin’ to have at aich male nice printed pro- grammies wid the names of the differe nt articles on the table in French wurrads, nice new napkins so stiff that ye can’t bend it an’ stickin’ out of then ye'll foind a great difference in the food, I'l warrant ye.” And then a mournful procession moved in silence out of the room.—Aventucky State Journal. Not an Editor. “Who is that man going up the street?” * Don’t know; but I've seen every day him for ay mebody told me he was an editor.” IT don’t think he is; leastways, I never saw him meddling with other people's. busi- ness, and that’s a pretty fair sign in dry weather.” — Merchant Traveler. “T wave noticed,” said Mrs, Fogg, “that many of the steamboat accidents and nearly all the burglaries occur upon moonlight nights.” * Yes,” replied Fogg, “« moonlight and disasters are convertible It is the favored time of lovers, you know.”— Boston Transcript. comicbooks.com