Judge — October 25, 1884 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. Don’t carry your head so high, my boy, that if you fall you will break it. Give your- self a chance to get up ag It is better to fall from the window than from the roof, you know. Miss Fortytive—‘* Umph! You make a great fuss over your engagement. To hear ‘ou talk one would suppose you thought Smitts was the only man in the world. Miss Twenty—‘*Oh, dear no. I know better than that. I’ve seen you chasing up too many of the poor creatures. Tableau! Old Penner—* Well, my boy, how do you like newspaper work as far as you've got? Young Scriblet—“ I like journalism very much. My third contribution was printed yesterday, and it made an immense hit. ‘on’ve no idea of the value attached to it in the office. Old Penner—‘‘ You must be a genius.” Young Scriblet—‘That’s what they an evil genius. You see, the artic stirred up the old kerwump I wrote about, that he has brought a libel suit against us for $50,000, and the sheriff has attached the whole ranch. Yes, there’s a good deal of fun in journalism. ain if you stumble. | VANS DRY WORK FOR ST. JOHN. A Racket. Wife found it in the pocket Of his jacket, And I tell you what, it made Awful racket. eB a Husband tried to explain it To his wife; Words only added anger To the strife. | She was mader'n 4 y hornet You can bet— Methinks I hear her scolding, Crying yet All his reasons, she thought, Were rather thin— The fuss was all about An old hairpin WILL onasorn, pstnuts are in eeason, ‘The crop hered by all the funny papers in Some confident pe that the full beard a re | crowds at the November fair than three moustaches combined. \ AY VAY RO, WEN | Some ed Democrats of the | no-bigod-nonsense species swear that if they elect their ticket this year, they intend in ’88 to go the whole hog (and butcher), and nom- inate Don Juan and Jack Ketch, itor (lookin “ Another Governor (just rise “* Well, let him come in. over the morning | That any of the Clevelanders should play at the queer game of stealing figures from tomb-stones might seem, at first sight, the most senseless of pranks. But there is a sort of reason in it The party wanted alive issue, and with characteristic wisdom went to the grave-yard to get it. ‘There was once a porcine quadruped (for shortness sometimes called a hog) who had a habit of wallowing and sousing himself in the mire. When he appeared in public, his pen-mates loudly called on the s-by not to dirty the dainty creature by flinging mud lat him. ‘The situation was like unto ascene in a comedy of rare richness. Sse comicbooks.com