Judge — August 20, 1887 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

3 yo' ud fin’ fault wid a showah, Ez fo’ Henry Gawge, w’at in de wol' do he wa de uth, an’ dar a’n't nui it dat ud suit um. Ef hecud » Wich ant bu'nt, ‘case he a'n't bilt dat way, he ud hab fo’ yo’ uns dan he's got now. Yo" lazy whelps might bettah ‘Good bye, no loss,’ an’ jump offen dis dock dan sit roun’ heah an’ pick out co'nah lots in Gawge's new Jerusa- lem.” “Yo! is rightsmaat, Ilow,” snecred Doubleshuffle. ** But doan’ yo" spose Hen. Gawge knows w’at he's talkin’ abo't, an’ a’n’t he wuckin’ toe git mo’ Jan’ fo’ yo’ an’ me ?” “Wren yo’ wa’ bawn, Doubleshuffle, some fool had toe die toe eben up tings. Huh! Dar er a-many folk in dis worl’ ez foolish ez de cow dat broke outen de clovah- AN INTERRUPTED BETROTHAL, patch intoe a stun-quarry toe Everybody said they would have made mich a thoroughly-suited that eanker.wworm hnd only minded its own busines fin’ bettah paschur. Hit am eoanie Ise laik chuckin’ gol’ ¢ tons wid cawn toe d has slowly descended from his perch and buried his head in the sands. eng toe was'e wuds on yo'.” And Old Chocolate looked tical sentimentalist, in other words, has passed out, not to as his words sounded, “But after he had biten off. livated a bit He died of hunger, and it was a good death, He perished of licorice root, he deigned torelax a little and continued: “ Ef yo' cud and that was the only worthy thing he ever did. Good ita half-acre ob groun’ de us’ ting yo" ud do wud be toe buil’ a fence fi yell * Keep off de grass.’ Mistah Gawge, John Doe, Dick nat to his exclusiveand excellently delicate bones; and may he occupy Row, an'de tes’ ob us am all quited dat way. Ef any ob us cud git de the most conspicuous of the rear seats of paradise with his customary uth, we'd raise de rent an’ put ba’bed wiah stintly air and smirk of gloomy and uncompanionable superiority prickles out. Ebe *nulf toe pi wtah realize forevermore, dis, go toe wuck, an } ion dat’ in’ toe git dar. Some He was too sweet to linger. hen oddahs, an’ git dar fus’, Some ‘kin run, oddahs mus’ Gone to meet hia grandmother. "a y hab toe limp an’ hobble. But ef yo" can't git dar, n’ in min’ dat whis'lin’ at a dog won't OLD CHOCOLATES LAND THEORI with his basket, Doubleshuffle ME POURS A LITTLE VERBAL VINEGAR ON DOUBLESHUFFLE POLLOCK — proved that he had been partially ¢ ed to industry by remarking \D OTHERS OF HIS ILK. between yawns, “ Ef [—had some bait—I'd borrer a hook an’ line—an’ : % see if de lish ud nibble. ‘4: a WALDRON, ud be toe fin’ sugah-cu'd hams growin’ on fence-pos's, an’ ebery burdock bush a potato hill, wid de ‘tatahs pwin? on de bush so dat yo’ cud pick um widout diggin’; dat’s wat ud please yo’, sho'l This millenial suggestion was made by Old Chocolate in criticism of re- marks by Doubleshuffle Pollock, a shiftless-looking African in third or fourth-hand clothes, who had gathered around him a Saturday-night half , dozen of fellow-citizens, largely col- ored and unanimously discontented. “2A AN had come down to the wharf to sev the ships come in. Doubleshuffle, among other original ideas, had bewailed the number and size of the tugs and steamboats whose disturbance of the waters had ‘‘sp’ilt de tishin’” And then he had remarked that “When Hen. ts toe be pres'dent dar'll be mo! lan’ to de acre fo’ pe folk, ay Goul’s stubbin’ ‘is toe won't make mo’ noise dan de fallin’ down of a fo’-sto'y house full ob niggahs.” Old Chocolate’s nose wrinkled as though he smelt some- thing disagreeable; and he a look of ninety-pounds-to- the-square-inch contempt upon Doubleshuffle as he took a seat on a snubbing-post and disposed the disarranged brown paper that covered a full market basket, on his knee. “Efone ob yo’ malcontemps shud sight a yallah dog wid no tail fishwoman wid triplets dis minute, an’ riz six cents toe play a gig dahfo’, yo’ cudn’ fin’ widal in all yo" pockets toe bribe de policy man toc write yo' a slip yit yo'll lop ‘roun’ heah an’ critumeize de style an’ business ob steamboats an’ fin’ fault wid Jay Goul’ ‘case he doan’ hab toe hang roun’ de po’-mastah de day befo' Crismus! I beleeb dat ef yo" nigga’s war in swimmin’ ‘A COOL HAND. Bonotar—" Say. just hand me that watch and pocketbook: they are a little out of my reach." Ownrn or watcn—" I will, if you will tell me what nerve food you patronize.”