Judge — September 13, 1884 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

NO FURTHER USE FOR HER. Brother Beecher don’t see any reason for changing his vote. can wear one s of my derbie: breasted overcoat, and rubb you'll be sure to lose in the mud.” “No, Aug, don’t; my cigars are too beastly | strong for you. Shake and git.” Like the spoiled child of affluence, the fair Augustine thought that such blissful _mo- ments ought to prolong forever and all night. But what 8 of the Brownlin, (or she) lame h in this wise: “ Stiffen up the willows which weeps— Sich is life— The sereneful enj d double- but thers | nents of the evening is followed-by-by-something at any rate confounded different. For the family dog had kept an ominous silence, though he made no noise about it— had kept it fast in his mouth which he refused to open. But hardly had our hero- on his way to bed, got as far as the cken-roost under the parlor window, when the family dog’s mouth suddenly opened and let the silence out. The moon took that op pertanicy to shine fully on the dog’s front | We forgot to mention at the proper i i “that Augustine’s heart was But it was, And this toothsome sight full. was the last drop in the feather that broke the camel’s back—so much so that our hero- ine’s emotions came over him in gloom. Hid him to that extent that the faithful reporter when he came to write out that two column account of the events that didn’t follow, was compelled to interview his own inside consciousness to get at the bottomless facts. Owing to the cir- cumstances over which no control, this tale comes to the above unlooked-for end; and perhaps it is well, on the whole, that it does; for it seems that Part 111. refuses to make appearance except on his ear. Refuses because he thinks it is a burning and ashin- ing shame that he is expected, not only on this, but on most occasions to come in after Part 11. him and hid} He | A Dusty Dialogue. City Chap (with carpet bag, to country boy). This looks like w nice place. Country Boy. ** Looks like it. Why its the darndest place to chew victuals in’ you ever seed, ‘This state is fie state of ther Union, and this yere county is fie county of ther state. Dads got a room big cnough to hold a man of your size fur seven dollars a wee no extra ch for extra advantages. ‘ fishing? “T should grin. You c from a full blown whale tc in the he Dern it, every time you poke } window. “Where do you bathe?” “Bathe?” “Yes, bathe. “Why, in the n catch anything r head out ov ther Wash yourself, you know.” ater, of course. You | didn’t think we washed in the manure heap, did you?” “7 might, judging from appearances, But where is the water?” “Why, in the well, of course. think we kept it in the chimney?” “Where do you go when you want to swim?” “To the old man.” “Go to the old man when you want to pe swimming! He ain’t a concealed lake, is “*Not much, but jhe’ 's boss, and don’t you fail to remember it.” “* What’s that to do with it?” “Tots and acres. If I go swimming without axing him fust, he strains the water out of me with a cedar shingle when I come back.” Did you I understand.” “One wouldn’t think it, to look at you.” “But when you do get permission to go swimming, to what part of the country do you go?” “To the part of the country where the lake is. It aint a movable dake, and never comes to meet you half-wa: a Now, how far is the lake from your f nt brought up in # surveyor’s ve a gu “T never give anything for nothing.” “Well, Shylock, here's a new five cent Is it a mile?” No, it’sa lake.” . is the lake a mile?” “No the | lake.” *Confound it, let it remain a lake!” **Do you want that room?” it furnished?” ** Same as the others.” “ ILow’s the others furnished?” ‘ame as the one to let to a boarder.” “Ts it healthy here? “So healthy that all the doctors that come here ave built an extension to ithe poor r their own accomodation.” ne’s Git, for lam a doctor in search of a locality to settle i in, and Idon’t want to locate in a poor-house. “Been there before, hey? Well, you’d better trot along for here comes Dad, and he’s mighty particular who I associate with. Take the road to the right, and you will be on the right road tothe county jail, ‘Ta, ta!” EUGENE 8. BISBEE. A Surprise Awaiting Gerald. “ PATHER.” Thus spoke a fair young girl about whose sweet young face there clustered a bang like a solid stone wall around a flower garden and in whose voice were mingled the soft notes of a flute and the silvery notes of the dinner- bell half an hour late. The person address- acold, hard man, with iron-gray and rew whiskers and with that stern look in his eyes which prompts a man to go else- where to borrow adollar. He was sitting in his office reading the morning paper. “Well, girl w is it?” he replied look- ing at the head-lines of the Chicago grain market dispatche “Father, Gerald has asked me to marry him and I have accepted him.” “T don’t doubt it,” “Yes, father, and I thought I would tell you, so it would not surprise you when he asked you for me.” “* Don’t worry yourself, girl. Don’t worry yourself, I will not be half so much sur- prised as Gerald will, my darling,” and he reflectively threw his right leg over his left knee and ran his hand carefally around the toe of his boot.—Chicago Tribune. “It seems to me,” said a Vermont Judge to his daughter, ‘‘ that your young man calls a good many times a week. My court doesn’t sit anywhere as oftin as yours does.” “Oh, wee, papa,” was the blushing reply, “«T am engaged to him, you know, and that entitles us to a court of the special sessions.” —Burlington Free Press. “‘YounG man, there’s the door, thero’s the gate, and there’s the road, and like Tennyson’s poem of the brook, do you ge forever, and darn my buttons if I catch you around here again after my davghter I'll nick you up and drop you into Walt Whitman's elegant sublime indifferent no- where. Now, mosey.” The youth moseyed. —Brooklyn Times. comicbooks.com