Judge, 1887-06-04 · page 6 of 16
Judge — June 4, 1887 — page 6: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Judge, 1887-06-04. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
a GARTYS ATA long. ns a Mr. Fogarty lost his position all ice av phys explained his intintio the stables, Le ava change in his views, nd sould his shop to the n to settle out west with- at Fogarty’s auction sale. n was inspirin’ wid his catalogues, in Shantytown, m yr wagged his ould jaw And all the best men [could find their paw r Dempseys and Hogans -ullys and Rourkes quite Wid Coogans and Doran: Fogarty’s sale. n likea party, wid noth sale wint i wl biddin® were hi And the chatftin drink and cigar. But the goat and the wheelbarrow goods had their fling, Thin Fogarty k ‘round and trated. There was bid shoutin® and auctio Big Dempsey he said that the Carrol goat ina wake: f rin’ wid a big wooden rind you, whin that 4 You wor there wid the cash and Farrells, there wor nd Carrols, wid the Murphys at hin’ our pleasure to mar, earty, and we a waited till all the light . and lugged the goat out chaftin’, musha, and the laughin’ over Fogarty'’s Is would starve the poor Tim Murphy’ he started the Farrells when he said they wor too Jrunk to sphake at wint up and his tail, And the rest had the men by their ¢ concluded the sale. Thint four dollars. ls pulled at his horns ‘ollars, and I think that There was shtrikin’ and jumpin’ and jawin’, and hair was pulled out by the bale, There was si Fogarty’s sale, chin’ and thumpin’ and clawin’ toenhance Mr, barrels and split the best table in two, arrolls into kindlin’ wood rapidly flew, ivery man tuk his place on the . and the wheelbarrow hung round his n nd rattle, wid the furnitoor tossed in the But when Fogarty lived through the battle he'd the cash for his bi 1 DO A LITTLE GARDENING, only on bucolic cucumber to maturity. Tw mulgator of garden-sass I am a gre: ent; but when it comes to the point of irrigating the marrowfat pea [ pass my hand to my partner to os legant little garden in the embryo uate to begin with. Forten years of my married state T have been robbed, ruth lessly robbed, by the green and moist grocer who deals in small fruits and canned Lima beans. When I acquired that garden and the mortgage thereof, [made up my mind to send the grocer into insolveney or grow a dull pain in the back and callouses upon iny hands. Thus far down the dull channel of personal experience T can safely say that I have been successful with the dull pain in’ the back and callouses upon my hands The green business at the I attempted to train the arly York cabbage ght here, as a pro- am an utter failure. and moist grocer is still doing Kd stand; and Tdo not see that my onslaught has made any perceptible dif- ference with his trade—so far as my bill is concerned ‘That garden of mine was in the raw when [tthe wae fron Since I started, ction sale. ou provesson. acquired it. [used to take special delight prov. ing about the outskirts of that piece of ground before it had become wholly and conchisively mine. It was a garden any man would pi get rid of. I will sell it to-day for 50 per cent but I must not digress. The first day I turned up ten quarts of tis) ing. worms, and had all my neighbors followin, spade with empty tomato-cans and looks of ex pectancy. I went with them and caught one horn-dace and a severe cold. After I recovered from the attack of horn-dace, or cold, I don’t know which, I recommenced to spade my ganlen. | turned up ten thousand beef bones with eyelet. holes in them, seven horn-handled knives, twenty two suspender buckles, and a revolutionary shell The shell went off. I didn't plant any garden that year, and I haven't since, but I've got the finest tennis-court in this town. If you want to make me real mad just murmur garden to me. my Misatowany—"* Idon‘t trust any man, because I never found any one who would trust me. Zane ez ‘A SWEARING MATTER. Thorstay. 4.» Tram (in Buffalo) —" Thicago ‘and havent bad TH Jesse Lor’ * how tired Lam, Uve walked ood snonze in here and take one,” Friday, a. Holy smoke: "Well? that takes the cake 1'll be blowed if Tain't back in ‘Chicago"™ comicbooks.com