Judge — July 5, 1884 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

“You Betcher Life! D You betcher life she's just a My gal I mean—I'll bet she 1 The other girls all out to-n For she'll be dancin’ roun¢ An’ graceful as the theatre “Ye sce,” I said, “It’s me that Let’s go t’ the ball n’ then “That's where I live; I'll go? you You betcher life!” “Now I don’t , » just you keep it dark, becase Sal Kelly wanted my invit An’ I ast Jen just out o° spit But now ant no give-awa; ve got her, here she stays— Here we are, back in London again! Our stay in Paris was short and sweet, for as soon as Heraclitus heard of Blaine’s nomination he made double-quick time in getting back to The Langham. It is perfectly ridiculous being dragged back and forth across that horrid Channel so many times, and there was no more need of rushing off as he did than there was of flying to the moon. All_he wanted was to get among a lot of Americans and talk politics and drink cock- taila: He couldn't Gave been moro jubilant if he had himself been nominated. Worse than all, he has announced his intention of going back to the States next month. When T asked him what upon earth he go to New York for, he replied, for Blaine,” and that was the only answer I could get out of him. I know he’s made a lot of money over here, and I dare say he expects to go back to New York and spend it. If that 1s the case I shall certainly be a helpmeet to him in disbursing it. ‘The probabilities are that the Princess of Wales will hold no drawing-rooms in July, and one thing is certain, / shall not leave London till after they are over. I am de- termined to be “presented” or die in the attempt. I have already consulted the mo- diste that I consider the most reliable on the subject of a presentation dress, It will cost # nice round sum; but what of that! If we do go home before summer is over I intend to indulge myself in Newport society for a few weeks, ond give my fine clothes an American airing. Lord Randolph Churchill and his wife, who used to be Miss Jerome, talk of going over, and Captain and Mrs, THE JUDGE. PURELY AMERICAN. Hostess To yourself. N LecTED Gurst.—* Oh! yes; we v 2 “Ah! Mrs. Nobody, I hope you are enjoying Do you think you would be interested in ceramics?” Tam interested in anything aristocratic, and 1 should be delighted with an introduction to Sir Ramicks.” Arthur Paget, Mr. and Mra, Cavendish- Bentinck, and several other notable persons will be there, and why not I? I don’t think Newport is a very good place for Heraclitus, but, for that matter, neither is London, I don’t know why Paris is called such a wicked city. Heraclitus behaves much bet- ter there than he does here. He is ont now every night, and seldom comes in till the small hours. I wanted awfully to go to Oscar Wilde's wedding, but it was more or less private, and Heraclitus wouldn't exert himself to get an invitation. In fact, about the time the marriage took place he was endeavoring to recuperate from a Blaine dinner-party e'd been giving to three or four of his friends the night before. Blaine may be a very good man, but I don’t see the need of Heraclitus making such a fuss about him. I don’t know anything about politics and I don’t want to, and I don’t see what par- ticular difference it makes who is President. Every four years somebody starts the cr that our country is going toruin. Well, all I’ve got to say about it is, it’s a long time arriving at its destination. If Mr. Pennyfeather keeps on the way he’s been going since he first heard the result of the Chicago Convention he'll be ruined long before the country is, and I told him so. “All right,” he replied; “ perhaps I shall be; but don’t, for heaven’s sake, Penelope, muddle your little brain with politics. at as soon see a woman ride 4 tricycle as to hear her talk about the state of her country.” He’s always been down on woman’s rights, more or less, but I didn’t know he'd such a horror of a female tricyclist. I always con- sidered riding the machines indecent, but Mr. Pennyfeather and I seldom agree on any subject, and tricycling is really becom- ing fashionable over here. It makes me tired to hear the talk about American women when I see what some of these English females do. They regular costumes now for the tricycle—knickerbocker trousers, that buckle on the hip. There is an opening at the knee, under which there is a fastening, and an elastic strap under the instep keeps them from working up. Some kind of an apology for a skirt is worn over this, and when a tight-fitting bodice is added, you have the tricycle dress complete. icture it, think of it, and imagine the attention any woman would attract doing the tricycle act in Central Park, for in- stance. Well, as I started to remark, I didn’t go to the Wilde wedding—‘ Wild Irish wed- ding” somebody called it—but I did go to a reception at the South Kensington Museum a few days ago. I dragged Heraclitus along, much against his will, but he laughed so much over two youngish females that wore ridiculously gwsthetic costumes that he said he was paid for going. ‘The worst-looking one had dry, black hair that was frizzled all over, and made her head look like a Hottentot’s. Little green twigs were stuck at cheerful in- tervals into this ‘‘ wool.” Her gown was all in one piece, and kept flopping about her ankles, and she wore large balloon short- sleeves and long tan gloves. She carried an immense fan, and had a lot of beads and lace wound around her neck. In New York one would never see such a thing outside a dime museum. Whether you could find anything like it inside I don’t now, for I’ve never been in one. Hera- clitus said that, like the fairy in ‘* Hobbies,” comicbooks.com