Judge — December 25, 1886 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

ART VERSUS HEART. She was a maid divinely fa And fairly divine was she: Or so at least I was wont to swear By the shades of my ancestree. She studied art—could paint by ear "Most anything you'd mention On milking stools or plaques—'twas here She gave her chief attention, But when one day--cold day for me, T offered her my heart ; She said, * Ah, thanks, but don’t you see I'm wedded to my art.” And when I knelt—my usual style— And begged for hope, and swore T could not live without her «mile She answered as before. And so I left, convinced at last My ravings wouldn't work, And she, before a month had passed, Wedded a grocery clerk. THE CHRISTMAS HORN. It would seem a physical impossibility for this boy to blow the horn: but he can, and blow it like thunder, tov. : HITTING HIM HARD, “Do you consider that the poetic instinct is fostered by allowing the hair to grow long?” asked a young lady of her poetical admirer. “T really couldn't s the reply. ‘*1 guess it must be just a habit, for I don’t know why I do it.” “T know,” interrupted the enfant terrible. “Well, tell us then,” said the poet, patting the youngster on the head. “It's because you haven't the money to get it cut,” proudly roared the little man. COULDN'T HELP BEING RICH. “Is it true that her father is so very wealthy ?” said De Jones, re- ferring to the daughter of a Wall street magnate. “T'm not sure, but I guess he must be,” replied De Smithe, ** for 1. svivester, | he has already failed three times.” THE PROFESSOR AT OUR CHRISTMAS PARTY. “ Ladies uut shentlemen, I vill now proceed to oxecute der most difficult t'ing efer attempted by a magician.” “You see, ladies unt shentlemen, I haf not only shwa lowed der umbrella, but I haf opened it on my insides!”