Judge — October 17, 1885 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

REMARKS BY LILLIAN, THE JUDGE. For the first and last time in life I ave tried the good Samaritan act Never again will I put myself out for any one else—it doesn’t pa Virtue is its own reward” sounds very well in copy books, but in plain, sensible, every-day life give me selfishness every time. It happened in this way: We have been buried alive in this stupid country pl all summer, lately, for lack of ‘something better to do, Jack has been ‘painting the town red "—to quote his own words. Of course. you know, Lam very fond of Jack, he is my brother and all that, but I do think that he makes a disgusting brute of himself on oceasions, and last week he selected the worst possible time for his “tear,” whe expected some swell friends from the c spend the day. my }an army of t Regina came to me with tears in her eyes. Jack had been “ somebody must get him out of the way. Of course, J was the ‘‘somebody,” Regina never thinks of my feelings, Well, I coaxed | him off for a walk; it seemed to me that we | covered miles and mile: sometimes he would walk so fast that I had to run to keep up with him, and then we would crawl along like two snails. Finally we came to a barb-wire fence that Jack insisted upon climbing; there was no use arguing with him, so 1 got down on all fours and crept under, Anyone who has not been there can not appreciate this difficult fe Tt was an awfully pretty, romantic place; the trees rustled over head and a little brook rippled at our feet; Jack went fast asleep and I took off my hat and sat there and fanned him, and thought how much su- perior women were to men. ach grand, glorious ideas were coming | ELEPHONE CHARGES ARE about five | times higher in this country than in any other, which suggests that Americans must be uncommonly ‘‘ thick 0’ hearin.” The theory is substantiated by the amount of hello” required to raise a man, Also, by the tolerance of hand-organs and the price | of opera. to me abont woman with a big W when suddenly I heard a noise back of me, and a dreadful cow placidly A shivers ran all over me; I could face ips, but one cow reduces me to abject terror! Oh the misery of that afternoon! Jack wouldn't wake ‘up, the cow grew bolder, made playful little runs at us. and finally walked off with my hat, evidently laboring under the impression that it was some new sort of bovine head-dress. 1 rescued my par- »| just in time from asimilar fate, and then devoted all my energies to warding off the attentions of a small hop-toad, who ap- parently mistook me for an intimate friend nd made frequent but unavailing efforts to f r T never was so unhappy in my life, and I was almost glad when it com- Aomnnn’d making a night of it ” and | menced to rain, for then Jack had to wake | up; but oh, how cross he was! We stood under a tree until we were both drenched, and then we started for hy I suppose I lost my head or something, but anyway I got canght under that barb- wire fence, and it took the united efforts of Jack and a hired man from a field to get me out, I jst wish you could have seen me when T got home—I was a folal wreck! My dress was a muddy rag, my parasol had dirty little rivulets trickling all over it, and as for my high-heeled, patent leather boots, their glory has departed forever! And Regina, the cause of all my mis- fortune, was heartless enough to “laugh! There are some things one never forgives! As for Jack, he may to the ‘dem. nition bow- wows” for all J care! me. £0 Tue stony rrom Montana about a three-armed man may not be so incredible. As far back as Shakespeare's time it was said be a fect that any man was ‘ thrice-armed who had his quarrel just.” A man with a just quarrel in Montana would probably need three arms, and a self-cocking revolver | for each. Write United States, RY JADE OLE, T have often noticed in the columns of various United States journals and more fre- quently, perhaps, in the daily papers, a lav ishness in the use of foreign, dead, and other languages that is wholly beyond the depth of the usual and casual reader. Well may the modest granger who enquired who “Siney Dye” was, on hearing the expres- sion cried in adjourning a court, be ex- cused, better illustrate myself, I sub- mit a section of a late society novel, which is not half as bad a case as any of our morn- ing newspapers daily present. 8 * oe . CHAP, TIVIX, “In hoe Si; Cead Mine F: Mockshopus Ubiqui sie $ 0 U Pluribus the in go brog mper etal.” O'NHOGAN, She was dlase. Very blase. In good faith in all my peri- patet! urneyings I don’t think I ever met & more thorough-going de jeneusse exam- plaire. Daisette raised her mellow blue eyes and addressing Madame de Toole in the utmost chic de Votaire, said: ‘Isn't he aggravating?” The Madame was of an ancient Latin descent, and consequently, often lapsed from broken E n into her native tongue. She therefore, gave her niece a searching glance, and replied: emo intulit tangere homini.” Daisette smiled reluctantly and arching her delicate ears, said: “Why, Aunt, you never mentioned that to me before, and you remember, you prom- ised me while we were in Honolulu together that I should share all of your secrets, Tout fil, Aunt, tout fil.” ** Cariambia mia Caro amant.” Her niece at this retort burst out into a hearty guffaw and fled to hide her confua- sion. CHAP. XXX. *O'tempora, O'Mores O horses, alus hurmine Semper idem au fait Soi distant Honore ibe.” TALLYRYAN. The Countess of Deer Run shook her head until her tecth rattled and quaintly spat on the stove. The hissing steam aroused the Seventh Earl of Leadville who was dozing on the coal box with sonorous distinctness. Starting up from a troubled sleep, he exclaimed: ‘* Daisette, where is she, mia cari?” ‘one! ”” replied the Countess. “And with whom? « Dan’l Decker.” ** The circus rider?” “The same.” “© Sine qua non de finis profundus ego. I thought as much, What terms?” “Ten dollars a week and photograph privileges,” said the Countess cooly trim- min r nails with the scissors. nen I go! and I leave her the worst curse that could befall her. “And pray what is that Countess. “Dare you ask? Nous Verrous, it is this: That the show busts and she has to walk home.” | He left, taking the door with him as far | as the hinges would allow. enquired the comicbooks.com