Judge — August 23, 1884 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. AT THE TAMMANY SWITCH. Salt River Satine Ben (by the wayside)—‘* Salt River it is, John.” walls were as dev paint as my friend Susie of beaux, and the only decorations visi- ble were the multitudinous perpendicular stripes of rust running from the puttyless nail-heads, and a patch of white-wash that looked like a topographical map of Missouri after a cyclone. The chimney looked like a broken column of Pompeii, and the shingles were doubled up and curled like the wicked little boy during green apple time. I sauntered away sad and mournful, with an indescribable admiration of the marvelous imagination of the man who wrote that “add” in the Summer Resort Guide. 1 meditated on the increasing depravity of the present generation, and was rapidly drifting Into one of my thoughtful moods, when a shrill and familiar voice dispelled my day- dream, and recalled me to consciousness. The sound of voice belonged to Juliana, “‘Sayee,” she said, ‘‘didjer wanter fer ter g’long ter milk the keows?” I replied that I should be delighted to witness the modus operandi of securing the lacteal fluid, “Theacteal flooid!” she cried, “ you betjer milk, made from ¢ Arrived at the ‘ tion of equine and asinine solipods,” squatted down on a sort of Olympian tripo wedged a tin pail between her knees, and addressed aaa the ‘brindle keow” to induce her to relin- quish the acteal flooid.” Then she mani- pulated the—a—er—(excuse me for a di- gression: I related this part of my rural experience to a lady friend, calling things by their dictionary-names, when she was so shocked that the presence of heraunt became absolutely necessary during the remainder of my narration. bate years have soured, but rather make use of a metaphor:—the part of the cow’s anato- my in question is to the calf what the nurs- ing bottle is to the baby—there, now, figure it out yourself.) duced “soon filled one pail, so she took another; when this was about half-full she said: ‘‘ sayeo, didyer wanter fer ter try ter ry cabalistic endearments to | The double stream pro- | Kery (boss switchman)—‘‘/ say, Ben, there comes that Cleveland train for Washington—now, then, is it Washington or experiment; and upon my taking the tripod she placed ‘th r (same parenthetical applica here) into my awkward hands, and instructed me how e883 the— —(teetotally same as above The cow looked at me, and had I been versed in the science of physiognomy, I should e discovered her smile, and a peculiar, mischievous twinkle in her left eye. But, alas! [ snffered for my lack of versatility in this most important branch of natural scien- ces. In less time than it takes a treasurer to embe , Twas tra ormed intoa comet, | and sailed into the hay-loft with I shall not risk facing another | aunt on whom two-score and a hulf of celi- | way attachment to my doeskin pant: Gro (To be Continued.) 3B Dean. “Woman thy name is frailty.” It must be admitted that the Mormons (let their apologists what they will) have their full share of frailties. comicbooks.com