Judge — August 15, 1885 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

CREAMATION. 1 One aft I walked with Ethel, “Twas during my vacation, My purse was empty, but my heart ‘Was filled with strange sensation, Td talked of all I'd seen at school Unless it was cremation ‘That I had seen upon the green; Our “' Trig.” was the occasion. n. T said to her, ** Dear Ethel, About a week ago I saw a book cremated, And I would like to know If you believe our bodies Should buried be or burned, And if a nice cremation By you, dear, would be spurned?” ut I'll ne'er forget her answer, It made me feel so cold. For never was a man, sir, So sure and sweetly sold. She smiled on me serenely, And said, “On no occasion Have T, as yet, refused, you bet, To have an ice cre: on,” vg nvmax, Our Little Folk's Post-Office. CONDUCTED BY AUNT JANR. Dear Critpren:—Your Aunt Jane ready for your touehing little letters. Next to a child’s letter, there is nothing that breathes the gentleness of alittle child—un- less it is the proverbial pin placed with studied and geometrical precision upon the teacher’s chair. _I love you all, oh! future heart-breakers, Canadian transplantations, ets, pill venders, dime freaks, political bosses, second row ballet coryphees, ete. Why?’ Many miles separate us. If this was not thusly thou wouldst angriest your Aunt Jane. This department will be stereotyped weekly. Back issues for Sunday School ex- amples, family reading or razor wipes always on hand. Cambridge, Mass., July 8, 1885, Dear AuNTJANE:—I've gota big brother who frightens me by pointing grandfather's sket at me. What shall I do to pay him MABEL. :—Your brother, I infer, is a collegian. ‘They generally learn such naughty tricks from their almamater. Have some boy friend load the musket with buck- shot, and weld the mouth of the barrel to- gether. The next time your smart brother points the musket at you, smile in his face and dare him to shoot. If he does, he’ll be astonished. He'll never be astonished again, but the cure will be conclusive. Ussiss1s UM ROJIMIAM, Africa, Nov. 2, ‘83. BooLoMACKEREL JANJAN:—Meele peleele I, jiji gooloboolokan sjibolok jibopaste coole- abullyboywidglasaeyeyoubet. Nixcomarouse- bosseeofthenincomepoop. GOODLITTLENIGGERWITHSMALLFEET. Dear CuitpreNn:—Ien’t that cunning? You can’t make it out? It is the pure Afric tongue; yes; aletter from Africa. Can I is | THE JUDGE. TRUE CIVIL SERVICE «Js this seat occupied ?” “Don't you see it occupied by rich southern blood? But be seated, 1 have no objection to color, sir.” : RIGHTS. read it? Your Aunt Jane whoops to simper. | Jane’s desk is the following list Here it is in all its simplicity: carmine: girl's gum.” house hash.” Stove-pipe.” ‘ Oldest In- habitant.” — ‘* Freddy’s Little Slate.” “* Rol- ler-Skates.” pring Ul- ster.” “Chicago Fe tely above this list, in letters four inches read: Dangerous: Don't Monkey With the Fol- lowing !! Nuff sed. Kraan ny THe Laxr, Africa, Nov. Boss OL Gat:—I’m out of socks, Some of the nibsees who do the grand might re- | plenish my wardrobe. I also want a banjo and a set of picture business cards, Will send some ivory in exchange—tecth that be- longed to our missionary. SOON Pirtsnenan, Pa., July 14, 1885. Dear Aunt Jane:—I want a new bon- net, a diamond bracelet, a pearl necklace, and a red parasol with real lace. Pa is an editor, MIRANDA, -WITH-BABY-PEET. Cosconn, Mass., July 9, 1885. Drar Aunt JAN I'm only five years old, but Ican hold a conversation on the subject of astronomy. Eclipses are quite positive to the average mind when one knows all about the ebb and flow of tides. The rising and setting of the sun and moon can be told for centuries in advance, simply be- cause the laws governing these events are understood. HORTENSE. Dear Minaxpa:—Go through your pa’s pockets. Ie’s humpbacked with gold ga- lore, All editors are. WW. 8. KELLER, A SUMMER SONG. The bees am: Go bummi There, Hortense; you need go no further. the clover You are only repeating what someone else has said before. It’s all very nice, but— your Aunt Jane read the very eame remarks in “ Tillingston’s Weather Forecasts.” I see now why the Concord school soars. It’s philosophy is second-hand, after all. Bat-Ox-tie Hepsox, July 11, 1885. Dear AuNT JAN What shall I do to be saved from the cholera? I’m a tramp. JIM. Dear Jim:—Take a bath in the Hudson, If that don’t do, take a dose of sponge, and have some healthy farmer inoculate you with the microbe sawbuck-a-la-woodshed. and out, the sleep of pain ed summer shout, S, ing towers; wg underneath the bank Croaks through the drowsy hours, is sing I call to mind the fancies, So idle, yet so dear— Six dollars summer board a week, Out of seven hundred The lily on the The codfish ten t ‘The skim milk they called cream! Time has not changed the fancies Of that remembered hour; The youthful bud of foolishness Is now the perfect flower, She caught me—the farmer's daughter— now I slave and hoard ‘To carn enough to pay her pa For my darling’s summer board! PAUL Pasrane Catcaco, July 12, 1885 Dear Aunt JANE:—My feet com- menced enlarging when I was two months of age. Iam now a sylph-like creature of sixteen with a Michigan lumberman’s feet. Is there any cure? SADIE. Dean Sapie:—Just above your Aunt comicbooks.com