Judge — June 12, 1886 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE. DER VISTLES ON DER POATS. BY WILHELM STRAUS Ven I landts in Castle Garden, About finuf years ago, It vas shtrike ine mine attention Ven I hear dose shteamboats blow, Mit hoo hoo here unt hoo hoo dere, From efery ding dot floats, Unt I finds der loudest vistles On der fery smallest poats. SS SS Py chiminy crashus! aind dot so All ofer dis crate landt, Und all der shmallest funerals Must hafe der piggest pandt ? Der shmallest shtore der piggest sig Dose dudes der finest coats? Vell, I baed you dots der vistle On dose leedle shmall tug boats. I got some reminexcuses Of dose boliticians’ vay Vot safes der country mit deir mout, Unt alvays makes it bay. Dey talks aboud der shtars unt shtripes Till dey got some shtriped coats, Unt you find dot most all vistle On some fery shmall tug boats. Unt dots der drouple, dond you see? On Vall shtreet und in drade ; Mit ‘gins unt in puts and calls, Dose dumble-downs is made. Unt ven dot man goes oop der shpout He leafes brotested notes ; He blowed mit dose pig vistles in Untsink his leedle poats, Die booben sie got fun mit me Pecause I hates a sham, Unt allevile say Hans, come off, Unt dond you been a glam.” Mine crashus ! bedder I been a glam In Shantytown mit goats, Afer I been all vistle Mit such a leedle poats, You notice dot dose grosser ships Aind been got mouch to say ; But all dose kleine leedle boats Yoost climbs righd out der v Dot noise dond count ven drouple comes Unt, poys, yoost shplit your troat, Dot vistle makes no deefrance, poy Ur you lose your leedle poat. A PUZZLER. “Here! what ‘ave yees got yer oye on that for? Yez can't pocket.” Pat— It’s not gettin’ it in me pocket Oi'm afther ; but it’s ter see the man who handles such a pick.” “WHEN THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD.” BY WALTER STEPHEN MURPHY. “Perhaps I shall know thee and greet thee again When the sea gtves up its dead. ANY years ago, when the ambitious blood of youth coursed madly through my veins, I wrote a magazine article. It was a weird tale of love and intrigue, evolved from a brain which had learned its cunning in 2 the staving off of various females en- gaged in the boarding-house business. The manuscript completed, I borrowed a three-cent stamp and forwarded it to a well-known down-town pub- lishing house. Two days later the precious document was returned with a printed circular which gave me to understand that the editor had been almost moved to tears when he realized that the article in question was not suitable for his columns. I will now draw the sombre pall of despair over the next seven months, during which epoch I believe I sent my Mss. to every publish- ing house in the country. At the end of that period I still possessed the story, together with the galling knowledge that my ulster had been hung up in Simpson's to enrich the U. 8. postal department. I was young, however, and when I thought of how Zola had been compelled ,| to hock his pants during his early struggles, and had once'been run in vhile working the free-lunch routes, attired in a bed-tick, it gave me courage and spurred me to further effort. So one day I went down town to a large publishing house and per- sonally tackled a long-haired man, who came forward in response to my pathetic appeal for an interview with the editor. Inoticed that he was somewhat cordial at the time, which perhaps. unts for the fact that after sitting right down and reading my article he paralyzed me by an- nouncing that he would accept it. “It's worth about ten dollars,” quoth he, “such sum to be paid you upon its pul ation.” “When will that be?” I asked timidly. He lifted up his mild gray eye and gazed long and earnestly into the gathering twilight shadows. “Call around in} about three months,” he said briefly,*‘and I will] * tell you.” With this in-| junction I depart ed, intending to} appear again at the time specified. But| who can forstall fate?’ The win| came on in all it: dreadful intensity. The benches had all been removed from the public parks, and asa re- sult the spring- time blossoms had | unfolded their viv- idly tinted petals in the warmth of the June sunlight ere I gave up an involuntary six-| months’ job dig- A GENTLE HINT. | Hanky— Hans, how it vos dot alreadty? ‘I vos hardtly know you. Haxs—I vos drink blenty of peer; dot makes me ou got fat so soon | yond the river. hele Then I once a-| gape gain sought the)” Haxky—“I vos drink blenty of peer, too; but I aforesaid publish-|dondt vas got fat.” ing house. The|, Haxs—‘* Yaas, dot vosso; but you coud vas drink F jit by der right dimes, You must vait till you meet long-haired gen-| some uf your friens; den you must say, ‘ Haf a drink,” tleman, who was|und you Vill soon got fat, aindt it?” comicbooks.com