Judge — August 2, 1884 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. A Practical Test. “Tre mind cure may be all right,” said Peajay, * but do you suppose if [ made up my mind that I had $50 in my pocket 1 would find it there?—Boston Post. A Great American Artist. “ Inde cil at all “Oh, . he’s fine. Come down some day and see him dr his sal It’s the best thing he does.—oston Budyet. I never knew he used the pen- Where Prevention is Better Than Cure. But into ‘kland A Boston docter cures black eyes. after all, the best way is not to get le that creates black eyes. A Cruel Shock. Dressep for church she stood before the mirror admiring herself, and mentally ob- served that she never had appeared more love he candid critic, however, would have declared that her figure was not in just proportion, for she was very tall and thin, and her height seemed greater than it actual- ly was in consequence of a bunch of ostrich plumes that fiuwed in onowy masses over her hat. “Yes, I know I am handsome,” she said, “but can’t help itz” and turning to go out, caught sight of her little brother stand- ing in the doorway. “What are you doing there, Bob?” she asked, sharpl “Looking at you, Fanny,” artless child. ** What do you want to be staring at me for?” “Cause you look just likea feather duster.” And sitti lone inchurech that morn- ing she wondered how she would feel if Bob got the measles and died.—rooklyn Lagle. returned the ndled Johnny's Future. Jounny Yeroer is variably makes a nuisanc there is compa Austin Avenue. disgr: little boy who in- of himself when the Yerger mansion on Only afew nights ago he ed the family’ by his precociousness before a whole room full of company: “Ma, will I be a man when I grow up?” “Yes, my son, if you are industrious and learn your lessons,” replied Mrs. Yerger, with dismal forebodings that the conversa- tion was not over. “ But, suppose I’m lazy, then when I grow up will I be a woman like you, and have—” «Johnny, will you, or will you not go to bed when [ tell you to?” “ But, ma, s‘pose—” Mrs. Yerger pointed to the door and the company lost the bright ideas that were surg- ing through Johnny's brain.—Zezas Sift- ings. : “Cot it short,” said the customer, as he slid into a talkative barbe barber kept still as much as ten minutes try. ing to puzzle ont whether he meant the ri marks or the hair.—Furlington Free Press. Heavens, bnt fashionable again, Hartfurd Post. croquet is to becom ‘This is too, too much,— Couldn't Bluff George. Gronae, like you very w “Oh, yes, . “And he has said that I you any more at the ho “Good for him,” replied the young rtily. And ed face, r, do you know papa doesn't musn’t receive an, he continued the girl, witha blanch- I hear him now in the woodshed ; but he is standing ter- Does he hate the hates you, But what in the world will you do You will surely have an encounter with the ferocious when you go out.” smiled a superior smile and saic “My dear, as you know, Lam a be income is derived solely from . ‘This afternoon [ sold the editor of adaily an enclyclopedia, a pro- nouncing dictionary history, and a bonnd volume of the York Herald. It took me ten minute: shall spend five minutes with the dog, Did Not Lie. Jackson was summoned to appear before the Court to give testimony in which it was his interest to be identified. | When the time of trial came, J the following note to the Juc **Can’t con er broken hip. The next day a deputy sheriff saw J on the stre into Court. “You trifling rascal,” said the judge, “I ought to send you to the penitentiary. “Whut fur, Jedge? ” “For lying to this Cou “T didn’t lie to the Cou’t. “You did. Said that you were lying in bed with a broken hip. “T wuz, Jedg “Tow did you get well so soon?” “Oh, dar wa’nt nuthin’ de matter wid ckson sent sah. I’se lyin in bed wid : kson arrested him, and took him “Then you lied to the Court.” “Nor, sah, I hain’t. My son broke his ip tuther day, an’ Iwas lyin’ in bed wid him.” . ke the fool away.” Thank yer, jedge. | De white folks doan un’erstan’ cr thing till arter its ’splain’d, but den dey eye.”—Arkansaw Traveler. Tue governor 000 a year, and 'y and treasurer $2,500 each. ‘The: ries may seem small, but it should L membered that they will not have ice pay.—Philadelphia Call. “Doctor, T came to see you about my younger brother.” “* What is the matter with hir will general, receive “ One of his legs is shorter than the other, | and he limps. a case of that kind? “T reckon I'd limp to.”—Tezas Siftings. Anovt two hundred different guide books to summer resorts have been received in this oflice, They are very pretty, but lack some- thing. We have been tryin think what it was for a month back, and it has just ¢ curred tous that the only thing to make them a thing of t forever is @ pass accompanying - Brooklyn Times. w what would you do in gazateer of natural | New | sce it wid er mighty bright | Hilarity in the Sanctum, * exclaimed the editor “ Trrere’s an article for yor the Penholder, admiringly, laid it down and went out for of respite. ‘I rather flatter mys will stir up the op “ Faugh! "snarled the Cedar Pencil, “ you m to fancy that you have done it all. “Hello, Stubby, is that you?” called the Penholder, mockingly. | ‘There was an old family fend existing be- tween the Ce Peneil the Holder, which broke out whenever occ n offered. Just now the Holder felt its importance and was inclined to be exasperatingly patroniz- ing. The Pencil turned a shade redder at the sarcastic reference to its lack of strength, “Who are you, anyway?” it growled in choaked voice. “12” airily returned the Pen-holder. “Oh, I’m the instrument that is mightier than the sword You?” derisively snorted the Pencil— ‘you! Why, you have to be driven into your dirty pen every morning!” Well,” retorted the Holder, * I'd rather be a driven Holder than a Lead Pencil any f that 1 | se ats exclaimed the Paste-brush, 1 that—very good, indeed it weut on, poking its hairy v ther over the edge of the pot’ * | why dont “Oh, you ‘0 shave yourself!” snarled the Pencil, angered by its encounter with the Mfolder, and the Paste-brush sank back into the pot with a dull swash, “Ifyou don’t cease your clamor,” began the Scissors—the Scissors were the oldest in- habitants and gave themselves airs accord- ingly—**if you don’t cease we'll cut both of you dead. You couldn't do that,” cried the little round-cornered Eraser, who always was giv- i mebody a ri you couldn't cut any- body.” “Why not?” the Sciss | surprise “ Bees Eras dull And just when it looked as if something serious would happen and ink might flow, the editor came in, wiping the perspiration | from his lips, and catching up the Pencil he nailed half-a-dozen political lines in the | brief space of fifteen minutes, while the Pen | lay passively back and felt the corrosive influence of the ink eating into its very vitals, ockland Courier-Gazetle. asked, in mild the vivacious little you're too infernally returned — * because use,” Mavp—* Wity do you pagne corks, Mr, Shymar Mr. Shyman—* To kee To keep it? Y¥ unless perfectly air-tight, the stuff becomes spoiled and won't pop.” “Oh! was it your mother’s failure to w you when yon were young that spoiled you riled met” Yes; you won't pop, either.”—Philadel- phia Call. put wax oncham- | | Josernt Cook calls himself a pandenomi- | nationalist. He must be a Butler man.— | Murtford Post. It is wonderful how prolife the poets be- come during a campaign year, especially if there is a wet spring. A wet spring acts on poets as it does on squashes—it fills them | full of sap.—Allanta Constitution, comicbooks.com