Judge — October 18, 1884 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

erful party—‘ and so would her sisters, and her cousins, and her aunts.” At present, though, the fair Belva has the field to herself, and the world wonders at her, and Tue Jupce admires her. BLIND FURY. Tue man who deliberately and with sufti- cient violence runs his head against a stone wall, generally leaves his brains on the hither side of it. But stay! What if, as his actions seem to render probable, he have no brains? Well, then, he will get off with asore head. And what if he have a sore head already, as have those who are blindly butting against the colossal pyramid of pop- ular appreciation and esteem on which Mr. Blaine stands? In that case their heads will get sorer before they get through, that is all. All which is an allegory, but one very casily read. Mr. Blaine’s progress through the country has been one sustained ovation. It recalls, while it exceeds, the enthusiasm with which the news of his nomination was received. Nothing has ever been known like it. It is the spontaneous tribute of a great nation to its chosen chief. And in the midst of it all, a little knot of disaffected purists— who have, or fancy they have some reason for disliking Blaine—raise their feeble voices against him, and, shutting their eyes reso- lutely to the tremendous evidences of his popularity, say that he never can be elected. And why? Is it because Curtis, Jones, Schurz, Bennett, and some few dozens of others oppose him? As the Sun well re- marks, when they are enumerated, each of these men will count but as one. sents no party, group, or orga The Republican bolters represent less than one vote in every thousand, even in New York State—a proportion too infinitesimal to be and elsewhere non-existent. -y will have before they have succeeded in butting down the mighty monument on which his admiring country- men have placed James G. Blaine. ay He repre- ganization. An enterprising Republican artist under- took to tattoo Cleveland, but beinga faithful party man he gave up the job when he found that every color he applied only helped to conceal something of the original universal blackness, “* FeLtow citizens, Cleveland was born in »w Jersey (great applause) and removed to New York (tremendousenthusiasm). Blaine was born in Pennsylvania (great laughter) and removed to Maine (roars of laughter).” Here the orator sat down. He afterwards I thought it best to get out play was good. A crowd so dod- rotted thick in the head, or so halfcocked with whiskey as to shout and laugh them- selves hoarse over a dry statement of a couple of dry facts couldn’t be expected to keep up their enthusiasm and their appreciation of genuine humor tili I came to the splendid passage comparing Cleveland to Washington, and to the capital jokes about the tattoo business.” vero | veTo Tenure of Orrce Bree, CHARGES WHEN SHERIFF FOR 1 863 Dave wor niin ove, “ ene payee .o HOW “A VERY IL. O. THompson—* No; a small man like you must keep quiet, don’t talk, don’t write, on and 1 will see what we can for your election. and Davi your spunk with.” Monographs. TOUGH BUT TRUE. On, Grover C. swears roundly, swears he, That he'll rai with Jas, G. Blaine In the fight for the Presidency Bat, you an bet all the same, the ke Louse door, and Grover will be cold, unknown to fame As Grover C., His Excellence Chief of all magistrates in these United States. 0, ORREL. Stage-struck—knocked down by an omni- bus, They say Mrs. Lockwood is making a great bustle in this campaign. The miss-take of a life-time—making a bad choice of a wife. “Called Back”—the man who tries to skin out without paying for his drink. Cleveland is to the Democratic party as the figure-head is to the ship—ornamental, perhaps, but useless. God never made a coquette, Clarence, so don’t rail at Him; rail rather at the breechered fools who by their vaporing asi- ninity made the coquette possible. Everyone is supposed to know his own business best, yet it is a curious fact that some persons are utterly unable to distinguish between their own and other people’s busi- ness. There is something peculiarly idealic about the brakeman, something which ten- derly appeals to the imagination and touches | the burly Bill. ST Fare Sut SMALL | stance, when he opens the car-door about a i} ACTS MAN," IS MANAGED. Here is the * World” to keep up the finest chords in our natures—as, for in- foot, yells, ‘*Cen'lvl’ t’n min’t’s st’p!!!” and bangs it to again with a report that loosens every tooth in your head, and makes you wish you had been buried’ before you were born. A politician, my boy, is a man who always sees a fat office just ahead of him, but sel- dom feeds upon the fullness thereof. He is forever chasing ignes fatui, and usually dies in the pursuit, Said a bigoted man, the other night: “ Democrats are naturally dirty. I’ve never yet seen any of them with clean shirts on their backs.” “That may be,” said a friend standing near, ‘but clean or not, they are very ex- pensive all the same.” “How do you know that?” “Why, I thought everybody knew their Schurz cost more than anything else they own, You se—” But the company had fled, and further explanation would have been wasted. THE COLD DAY AND THE ULSTER. A Cold Day dropped into town on urgent business. Passing down a side street, three gilded balls attracted his attention to the window over which they hung. The Cold Day stopped and looked in. An Ulster was in the window making frantic efforts to escape from a Five Dollar Bill that had hold of it. When the Ulster saw the Cold Day it re- doubled its violent efforts to get away from comicbooks.com '