Judge — September 20, 1884 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

HORRIBLE EARTHUQAKE. Hanny—* Did the earthquake give you any sort of a shaking last Sunday Tom?” ‘Tom (rather glum)—‘ Not ezactly, my girl got to shaking though—and she shook me.” A Case of a Lack of a Want of Confidence. | Countryman had ten thousand dumped | down on him. Wants to make it a safe thing. Hands it over to benevolent patri- arch, on whose venerable head seventy win- | ters left never a hair, Doesn’t know any- | thing about patriarch, but community has | utmost confidence inhim. Patriarch doesn’t understand investment business. Hands ten thousand over to enterprizing New Yorker engaged in improving something out West, or developing something down South. Doesn’t know enterprising New Yorker, but community almost confident. Countryman, patriarch, enterpniser, all seem animated by — by —the best paving-stones ever used down there. Meanwhile figures, and the ten- s, and are no less spiteful than they were before. I have tried to preserve a neutrality, and when dangerous topics come up, I never venture on any more bri! t remarks tha “ah,” or “oh” “really,” * Do you say 80? and soon, ‘The result of my pradence is that Iam not in favor with either party, and the one thing they all seem uble to agree on is dislike of me. And the one subject they have in common is my weak, unstable character, and my want of pe right and wrong. Never mind: Teawatford to give them all time to cool. They come to see me just as often as they used, and I have as much chatter to listen to as I ever had. Mrs, Bickering and Mrs. Narcotic both agree that I am a mere fool. So Mrs. Lightfoot tells me. I only smile, for I know myself if any one wanted to buy a fool, they would make a mistake if they spent their | thousand went up the spout. money on a quiet old maid like If you have a corkscrew or other sketching Tanita Tosmpxtys. | tools about you, draw this moral: There is | nothing so bad as a lack of a want of confi- dence in your fellow-man—even when you don’t know anything about him. A turn-spit—the oil-cloth. A steal-pen—the penitentiary. ———> Gems of speech—precious tones. SomeTHING in the wind—dust. —— | Oscar Folsom Cleveland is a wise child. | Ile doesn’t want to know his own father— which shows unusual good sense in one so young. “Tis will be a campaign of ‘soap’,” shrieks the V. Y. Post. Well, the Demo- crats soap 50. A Key to Some English Classics. “*A VACANT stare”—the stair after she has gone up it, and he has been helped down it, “Gazing into vacancy.”—A dude in astate of introspection. “He laid aside his mocking tone.” Found | it warm enough in a linen sack. | ‘He called for a light, and hastily de | voured its contents.” ‘The last clause refers, | | not to the light, but to the oyster can. “Adding fuel to the flame.” coals on the fire. “A clammy perspiration stood on his | brow.” No chair convenient, or too polite to sit down on a noble brow. | Putting || “A caudal appendage.” Must be Mrs. | | Caudle’s husband. ‘He awoke with a start.” Not at the || third call, but at the first spank. “It had a weird, unearthly sound.” Gen- erally a dog barking in the wood chest. “He stole along with a noiseless tread.” | Invariably a tom night-cat; but not noiseless for long—soon the music will begin. “The shock was too much for her.” Con- sequently left some of it on her plate. | “Suddenly his brow darkened.” She got | between him and the moon, | “There was a shadow on the fair young | face.” Shadow of his hat. Got between | her and the moon. “There was a coolness between them.” They were sitting on opposite sides of the | refrigerator. | ‘She bursted into tears.” The only diffi- | culty about this phrase is the bad grammar. | For“ bursted” read ‘* bust,” and then let her; the tears will take care of themselves. Pop Piper. Por Prrer isa quaint old darkey, with with very little wool on the outside of his | head and. very little wit on the inside. Tle makes out a precarious existence by wandering from farm to farm and from house to house, doing odd jobs of various kinds. During'the winter he makes baskets, puts new bottoms into old kitchen chairs and helps to make the sausages-but when || the spring time comes he prefers work inthe | | open air, and ho isalways the but of ridicule | | for all the farm hands and village boys for miles around, Ile is forever meeting with accidents, but nothing seems to hurt him, and he apparently has as many lives as a cat. One day, while hunting hen’s eggs in far- mer Jones big barn, he fell from one of the upper beams to the ground floor. He struck | | on a large fanning mill us he came down, and why he was not killed outright has always been a mystery to everybody but him- self.” He says, ‘‘ef it hadn’t been for that ere fanning mill that broke his fall it would have killed him sure enough.” Once, while passing the district school at recess time, the boys took it into their heads to pelt him with green upples. hey gave him a vigorous thumping about the lower part of his back, and finally, when he could stand it no longer, he rubbed his hand over the part affected, and forming tohis tormenters exclaimed, ‘‘ You cussed darned comicbooks.com