Judge — July 5, 1884 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. First CLerk.—*‘ What did you do with yourself all day Sunday, Mr. Check?” Mr. Cuec “* Me? a little equestrian exercise’ around Coney Island. Ah! my boy, there's nothing like horseback-riding to brace @ man up!” Way, I took eg, and we were seated demurely with Jncle Abraham and Aunt Keziah in the morning-room. In a few minutes grandma appeared, with an air of excitement and a ocket-handkerchief stained and blotched with blue! I felt myself turn pale, but she was not thinking of me then. ‘See, Prissy!” she exclaimed; ‘‘see, Abraham! see, Keziah! I have at last discovered the cause of my deafness. There is a blue discharge from my car. I have sent for my physician, I feel now at last that my hearing may be re- stored.” Aunt Prissy looked at me with gentle reproach; she knew it must be one of my pranks. The others stared at grandma with mute astonishment. Katie and I were simultaneously seized with violent paroxysms of coughing, and fled from the room. What a day it was! Before the arrival of the phy- sician Aunt Prissy persuaded grandma to | bathe her ear with warm water, ‘in order to encourage the discharge.” When the in- telligent AZsculapins arrived he appeared puzzled at first, and afterwards suggested it might be the dye off her cap strings. This was too much for human nature to endure. Further advice was called in; the pocket- handkerchief was submitted to analysis. The result failed to satisfy grandma, who to the last day of her life declared that were it not for the obstin stupidity, and igno- rance of the physicians her deafness might have been remov I had, of course, to make full confession to Aunt Prissy, but she never betrayed me. For my part, I often felt glad that the deafness was incurable, for many, many of my escapades must have come to those poor old ears had they ever been open, and I think my grandmother's infirmity often spared her pain. aad [know it often spared me and Aunt Prissy. I be- lieve my grandfather was deaf also, as I have often heard that it was a common practice of my grandma's to take him out to Central Park when she had anything of a private nature to confide to him. Then, having chosen an open and unfrequented spot, she would shout aloud with great satisfaction. When I was about sixteen years of age grandma resolved on taking a trip to Eu- rope. Of course, Aunt Prissy, Martin, and I were taken. I had a good time, but I fear Aunt Prissy and Martin suffered. I shall never forget our voyage. Poor grandma suffered all the horrors of seasickness; Aunt Prissy was worse, and Martin was“ worsest,” This is Mr. Check taking his equestrian exercise at Coney Island. as she expressed it; but [ will reserve our ex- | periences for another chapter, as the editor suggests that it is not permissible to fill the whole Junge with tender memories of my grandma, and when I appear at the office now I am greeted with derisive remarks and queries, such as ‘‘ Does your grandma know you're out?” etc. All these [ treat with the silent contempt they deserve. Still, I feel bad over them; they are stupid, uncalled for, and in bad taste, and there is no fun in them that I can see. Even Tue Jupce jhimself had a grandmamma once, but I | guess he don’t care to own up to her; but if |he goes on as he is doing, and drives me | to desperation, [’I—[’ll—well, I'll go to | Puck and help beat Blaine. Oruer men may be big-hearted, but the shoc-maker is the most whole-soled fellow of them all. ‘THAT you can’t butter parsnips with fine words, is a saying that originated in the dark ages, when it was all butter and no oleo- margarine. It is Worth a dress-loving woman's while to go abroad. A Belated Pun. Inspired by the wrong kind of Punch. Has anyone, O Jui Nursing a fiendish grudge *Gainst the Chicago smudge, Queried: O, will Blaine Find it so cold a day In the November fray That we may henceforth say, He is a chill-Blaine? Fresu Arrtvat (to hotel clerk)—* mister, I thought this was a pe town, but I see every armed. What's the rot Hotel Clerk —‘ Well, I believe we're pretty well fixed here, but better not step outside of that door without your weapon; and have your money and watch put into the safe. F. A.—‘Is the mob going for property able, quict an on the street or. H. C. (contemptuously)—‘* Do you think I would load down with all this cutting and shooting iron for the best mob that ever burnt a court-house F, A.—‘‘ Not the James boys on a raid? I thought they were cleaned up.” H. C.— No; he'll go through more pocket-books in an hour than they did in a lifetime; but if nobody weakens I think we'll fix him this time.” F. “Fix him? Who is him? Do to say the devil's broke loose?” . C.—'* No; our sheriff broke out of jail last night.” Pig 1roN should be shut up in a steel pen. comicbooks.com