Judge — June 12, 1886 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE. MY GIRL OF TO-DAY. countenance so smiling an Your soul is soon beguiling, your heart the sweetest feelings are awoke; She will talk of Herbert Spencer, And on art she is a censor, But she knows at sight an old, bald-headed joke. She can tell you baseball chatter Of pitcher and of batter, Whether free trade or protection is the thing ; Of dog shows and of horses, The latest of divorces, Of billiards and of sluggers in thé ring. Sometimes she's quite wsthetic And always she's athletic. Let me tell you, you can’t play her for a flat; She's neither saint nor sinner, She can order wine for dinner, Every time she knowsa “ chestnut” from a“ rat.” You should hear her banjo music, But before she doth make you sick On the ivories a sonata she will play ; She may tell you ere you leave her That in order to deceive her You must rise up early on a frigid day. And yet, by all above her, I swear I dearly love her ! Tho’ she says she only likes mo for my tin: Yet when I last did meet her Could anything be sweeter Than her words, “Oh! well, I guess I'll scoop you in.” SAMUEL WILLIAMS COOPER. men are unreasonable and strike we will be be compelled to get along until business revives. We have enough stock on hand to meet the demand for several months, and if the men won't work they won't have to be paid. Of course, if prices go up we can com- promise on & percent. Gentlemen, if there is no further objection we will consider the motion carried. Mr. Blunt, let me congratu- late you on being a financier, Mr. Secretary, order a general reduction of 10 per cent. in wages. By saving $1,800 a week it looks as if we could pull through.” HARRY J, SHELLMAN, The beautiful Snow locked up in Utah for accumulating too many wives got into a melt- ing mood and said he would die before he would leave any of his wives. He cannot thaw out—of jail. THEY ALL DO IT. Mrs. Brown (indignantly)—“ All this talk about the inferiority of women is sheer fudge. Here’s a writer who says that a woman isn’t as good as a man just because shé can’t jump on a horse-car when it’s in motion.” Brown (disgusted)—‘* Well, isn't that so?” Mrs. Brown (evasively)—‘* Yes ; but that’s only sophistry. You know very well it is because of the clothes she wears.” Brown (sneeringly)—‘* Not a bit of it, my dear. It’s because she always grabs the dash- board instead of the handrail.” POSTHUMOUS FECUNDITY. Menrrirt (solicitously)—‘‘ What makes you seem sad, my dear ?” Cora (mournfully)—* Why, Spriggins, my favorite poet, has just died, and I'll never again have the opportunity of reading any of his poems.” Merritt (reassuringly)—‘‘ Never fear about that, my dear, All the magazines in the coun- try will keep on publishing poems of his until some other poet dies and gets talked about.” THE GRIP OF THE PRIEST. Broker (casually)—"' It is the women who keep religion alive in this world, and what a wonderfully strong hold the clergy seem to have on them.” FRIEND (agnostically)—‘‘ Yes, my boy ; and when there’s nobody near the hold is always around the waist.” IT LOOKED AS IF THEY COULD. “Well, gentlemen,” said the president to the board of directors, ‘‘ something must be done at once. Prices are very low and the strictest economy is needed. Expenses must be cut down,” “Suppose,” remarked Mr. Blunder, “ that! we make.a general reduction in salaries, com- mencing with ourselves.” | “Well, that may do in a general way,” said the president a little stiffly, “‘ but as for) me I cannot consent to any reduction. I find| ‘it difficult to exist on the meagre salary I receive, as it is. You know I only get $10,000! a year from this corporation, and it requires! nearly, half my time. Of course, if you desire it my resignation is at your service.” ; “Oh! Lbeg pardon; I'm sure we couldn't) \ think of such a thing,” said Mr. Blunder, “but perhaps the rest "— “Stuff and nonsense, Blunder!” spoke up Mr. Blunt. “You know that we only get $5,000 apiece besides our dividends, and how are we to get along on any less? Mr. Secre- tary, how many men are on the pay-roll ¢” “Fifteen hundred, sir.” “What do they average a day 1” “About 82, sir.” . “How much will we be short of a dividend next June if we go on at the present rate and prices don’t advance ?” “ About $10,000, sir.” “Hum ; 1,500 men at $2 a day, $3,000, or $18,000 a week ; 10 per cent. off is $1,800. - In! round numbers about $7,200 a month ; four] months foot up $28,800. I move, Mr. Presi- dent, that we order a general reduction of 10) per cent. in the wages of the men.” “I second the motion,” said Mr. Snap. “Trade is dull, but there is a prospect of al business revival, and I guess with proper econ- omy we can pull through.” “But suppose the men strike,” said Mr. Blunder. “Ah, well,” said the president, “if the ONLY A LITTLE MISTAKE—CARBONATE OF SODA. CustomER—‘‘ Was that carbonate of soda you gave me about ten minutes ago?! 1” =: DRva CLERK (looking at a bottle}-—‘* Why, no; how stupid of me! it was strychnine. Tl change the bottles back again, and I think the mistake will not occur again. Good day, sir.” comicbooks.com