Judge — January 17, 1885 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

THE JUDGE. Ants and Aunts. We were on a mossy bank, Kate and I together, Just for one brief hour to bask In the sunny weather. Kate had two old maiden aunts, Very prim and proper; If she came to walk with me ‘They would always stop her. Auntie Jane was far the worst— Law! I did detest her— But cach day, from three to four, She took her siest: “Kate,” I murmered, “how time flies In your haven woody, Just in twenty minutes more You'll be doing ‘ goody’. + Rest your little nestling hand On our bank so mos Let me lay my own on it— Do, lovet Don’t be crossy. unt Jane will so very soon Waken to abuse Dearest, give pne—just one— How c nu refuse me? But as I her taper waist With my arm enfolding, Only just bad bent to taki Katic scarce withholding, “Ob! the ants!” sbe cried Jane was going for her, As away from me she sprang With a scream of horror. I tho How I swore and stamped my feet nla At those mai¢ Thad y kiss, and wished Every aunt in Hades, sed m, But ‘twas not from aged prudes That my Kate was springi Tt was from the insect ant, Equally as stingii So I wiped away the tears, Kissed away the swelling, And left Katie, just in time, Ather Auntic’s dwelling. wee Young Sapheadly’s New Year Resolves. Wit hereafter resist every temptation to ise before twelve o’clock. Il bear up under nausea and headache till I have finished my fifteen cigars a day. Will economize space by wearing the tight- est possible breeches, Will never look at anything with the naked so long as it can be seen with glasses. Till my right hand shall forget its cun- ning I will never cease to part my hair in the middle. Fatigue shall never prevent me from spe ling several hours every day in an easy chair. As self-examination is the privilege and should be the delight of every rational being, I shall devote all my spare: moments to standing before the looking-glass. In the great crises of life, when at a loss what to do, I shall put on a pair of striped trousers and a white necktie. As time is precious, I shall punctually avoid keeping every and any appointment on matters of mere business. Mnst acquire the manly art of boxing, A good boxer need never be afraid to meet his tailor. DISCRETION THE BETTER PART OF VALOR. v—** Faith, if yer claim ther bird, take it from the beast.” Dutcuman—t Vell, let it go. pody smaller than myself.” In order to the diligent cultivation of. my mind, my library shall never be without at least six hair brushes. To keep up a healthy interest in the v ing phenomena of nature, shall wa by day, the growth of my mustache and the varying color of my meerschaum. Tn order to guard againg. unsoc’ shall always walk out accompanied by a cane. To keep up a healthy interest in the affairs of my fellow creatures, and cultivate conver- sational habits, shall always keep a dog. Must keep a more y income and expenses, so that the income may always be kept below the expenses. Will learn to do everything with delibera- tion, so that I may avoid the guilt of putting on my boots before my trousers. As a mind unfurnished is a mark of neglected opportunities, will get me a wig before I get bald. As profanity is a low vice (as practiced in this country) shall import all my oaths from London and Paris. For the encouragement of art, shall never omit to call every new picture beastly, and every new opera a bore. Must improve the fleeting moments by teaching them to fleet gracefully. In order to keep up a proper spirit of inde- pendence will never fail to find fault with the sum that old Sapheadly allows me for my expenses, Must never forget that a gentleman is never excusable for staring at every woman he meets, except when he does it for the purpose of staring her out of countenance. jal habits, » matter how fortune may favor Great Britain, she will always be in great straits, “Yes, sir; after my death the insurance company will come down with $5,000.” “Yes, that’s perfectly proper, but what bothers me to comprehend is how far down they will have to go to settle up with you after you have died.” reful account of my | | engaged | without I'm too big minded to dakes avay anything from any Not Up to the Standard. He boasting of the growth of a west- ern town, and said: “Well, gir, to show you how healthy itis, I will tell you that we have had but’ three deaths in the past year.” “Tow many doctors are there in the place?” “«Twelv “Humph! They must be good ones.” Full Man (to the full moon)—* Say, you | up there, can lend fellah a quarter?” Fall Moon— Fall M rascal out. , my last quarter’s gone,” h, all boys broke?—turn Con. ANT says that his father, who is in writing his recollections of the war, verifies hi ts by a laborious corres- pendency, because the writer doesn’t trust nis memory. Of course not, What historian does? But has Gen. Grant no imagination? If not, he had better drop history and drop into poetry, Tue average American editor gets so bored and harassed by these Presidental campaigns that he always rejoices when the election is over so that hi n find relief from politics by discussing the chances of the different “andidates and the probable result of the election four years after. Tuk Marquess of Salisbury, in his late speech-making tour inthe North of England, stepped on to the balcony of his hotel to ad: dress a crowd which had gathered to do him honor, And his mind, it seems, was pre- occupied to that extent that he appeared his trousers. We presume the modest Marquess began his speech with the time-honored formula: “ Ladles and gentle- man; It is with no small degree of embarrass- ment that I appear before you on the present occasion.” comicbooks.com