Judge — September 20, 1884 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

half and she his arm and in husk tones inquired: ** Are you stre those goods won't shrink?” The Israelite appeared griev- ously insulted, and vehemently protested that the materal was ‘‘ vine as zilk and vould nefer shrink—no more as sheet-iron vould,” but to e sure, my wife selected another suit three sizes larger. This is a front view of how I looked when I first donned the purchase! We went back to change the suit for a smaller size, but found the proprietor had failed and the store in the hands of the Sheriff, co I wore the ‘togs” for a week, at the end of which, (Mrs. Joslyn having in the meantime traded off all my winter clothes to | i the second-hand desler for bric-a-brac and crazy patchwork pieces), I was forced to isolate myself in my room at the house for one whole day w they were laundried; and how fervently my wife and I prayed that the suit ‘ould shrink just alittle bit,” my pen could never here express. When the garments were dry, talk about your grand ballet transformation scenes from old woman to fairy, your caterpillar to a butterfly transmogrifications, and your “* presto-change” George William Curtis and Charles A, Dana political “flops,” not a single one of them could hold a candle to the wonderful alteration and abridgment soap and water had accomplished in that suit! This is a fac-simile rear-elevation of my appearance, when again arrayed in that “shenuine, vresh imborted Galgutta seer- THE JUDGE. A SKETCH THAT NEEDS NO EXPLANATION. Democratic Trasp—‘‘ Turn the rascals out!” Observe the half-moon expression of the coat accross my Herculean back; the coy, reluctant way in which the modest sleeve draws back from my bold, bad hand; the loving lingering manner that the pants have of clinging to my statuesque limbs, and the article held in my hand which resembles a | mutilated postage-stamp or a cast-off corn- plaster, aid y was once the vest with a 44 inch bust measure! Can you wonder un-gentle reader, that I have serious misgivings concerning my help- meet’s wisdom, or that my mind revolves around the central idea of divorce?—when I inform you that she knew at the time she blew my other clothing for senseless jim- cracks, that I not only was dead broke but had drawn all my salary for three months in ad- vance, and, in consequence thereof, (my credit being also ‘‘N. G.”) I’ve got to wear that confounded abbreviated seersucker abom- | tnation ’till winter sets in 1! Oh ye gods! please ‘temper the wind to the shorn lamb,” mercifully put me on somo scheme which will yield me a new suit, and I will promise to give up all my bad habits even to writing alleged humorous sketches! Sorrowfully, Tue trade in campaign goods is booming, and all our principal thorougfares display more or less ornate banners, with more or less life-like and elaborate portraits of the Presidential candidates. ‘The Scott Art Company, of 176 Broadway, is turning out some very handsome specimens of this kind of work, and bids fair to corner the best of the trade. which, I pledge you my honor, | Monographs, ALL HAIL, OH REGAL BIVALVE. Hat! yea, thrice hail, O regal bivalve with the unctuous name! Too long we've sadly missed thee from our saucepans and our pots, And with the base, plebcian, leathern clam have | cursed our cots In horrid dreams, i’ the light of which all other tor. tures tame, What the poor creature is that boasts no sense to guide his ways, So is the sauce, the stuffing, and the stew ungraced by thee— Lacking pleasing presentment, vapid as weak- drawn tea; Of earthly uses none, blest when it leaves, curst while it stays! Yea, e’en from the gentle maiden to the midnight roister, Wedo welcome thee right royally, and hold the dearer far Than all and several the months unbless-ed with an R Again we bail thee, and thrice hail! Great bivalve! | luscious oyster! Goes against the grain—damp weather, Up for repairs—mutually divorced couples, A clo’es call—when a girl’s mother yells for her to come and hang out the wash, “And thus again the iron sinks into my | wretched sole!” exclaimed the tramp as he stepped on the acute termination of a rusty ten-penny nail. comicbooks.com