Judge — August 27, 1887 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Sidges THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL PICNIC. The Sunday-school went on Inachaoticbasket, was piled ang Bobby and Ned fell into TWO Sunday-school lambs “I think,” said the scandal its yearly excursion up the dinner ne he ricer got into a quarrel ized, sad superintendent, To the side of a woodland Piled generous, and boun- and Tomiy got stuck in And Tommy he tusseled — While a frown spread over stream, tifully high; a alough: with Sam, his face, With lemonade made with- The potatoes were drowned And'the girls werethrown in The deacon reproved them “That this tinique irreligions id of a lemon, in the depths of pudding, a tall Of tertor in words uncanonic— diversion n cold tyrotoxi- A turtle crawled over the py the sight of a wander- Andsome of themrhymed Is far from conducive to coned cream— pic. lag'cow, _ with clam "— grace ; Made of ninety-nine parts of He leisurely swaggered up At cow that was Unsanctified wordsthat were And a prize fight or a horse- good tyrotoxicon out of the marshes ‘and herbiverous, unregenerate, race will discount a picnic And one part of genuine And meandered over the ming exactly with 4 ns of developing cream. pie. *elam !” 8. poss A CHANGE OF WEATHER. “Hello, Hi! howdy? How yo’ folks ¢” “Po'ly, bless’ Lod—po'ly; all es kickin’, but not berry high. How's yourn “All able t’ eat mo'n I kin give ‘um. Whut you gwine do dis mawnin’ (make horses ¢” “ Whut for make you sa “Cause I see you gut de frame erone dar wid dat bridle on.” “Ump! Ump! Ain't you smart man ! Dat’s better horse ‘an yo’ daddy gut—ef he is done bought ‘im ole piece er po’ lan’.” “Wher you gut ‘im 7” ‘*Marse Tom trade for ‘im ter'r d. * dem fool niggers over dar n’den he took an’ tole r er crap wid ‘im, he gimme all I make; an’ I: don’ sign my han’ ter do it, ef he stay on de groun’; an’ ef he ra’rs up ter de moon I make one grab fer ‘im fo" he git dar.” CAUSE FOR ALARM, “Oh ! Yes, I knows dat horse. You nebbah work him inde “T guess it yaint so serious, aunty; whi a litth care | reckon de ol through worl.” y—"Tank heaben, doctor ! I was awful skeered, “kase dar war'nt a cent in de house fo" “Dat all yi it. vy you couldn’ work ‘im, mournin’ wif.” ight I hab ‘im so tame nigger, ‘tis summer-time in de mawnin’ when dis man git fooled. Des lemme get two good lines an’ one swingle-tree hine ‘im, an’ he one “Oh !—you go" im yere broke horse, des sho’ as we's bofe er chrisehen.” *mongst all dese stumps ? No siree-ce-bob. I gwine take lemme see ‘im when ye does, Imus goan’ maul dem rails. ole fiel’, hitch ‘im ter onebush, an’ let he run he bellyful. Tell ye, ole De I got ter make two hundred er he woon't pay nay ‘nother when my "u whut I done spent while twus s, Br’er Hi—but de wedder den.” Three hours later. “Hello, ole pardner! Got dem rails “De mo’est unum. Whar yo! horse ?” : c Ih, shucks! don’ “talk ‘bout | i { ething. I pat ‘im, an’ [rub ‘im an’ eANOTItE HI 4 whisper fe ear. an’ blow in he nose, e- itt , 4ES% den hitch tim up t bush ; at horse, he als FAIR oc BREE CHE i ain't gotnosense—do! know when er gentle- BALL PLAYER THAT. MAKES) \ re 8 ei recto nent THES HOME! RUNS. f q he lay, tell I thought he wus dead ; so I took Ta) THIER : J git F k out over ter great ‘ouse, tell de boss come dar an’ | at ‘in ole I wus plowin’ an’ he runned ’g’ins’ er stump, an’ felled over an’ broke he ole long ‘spisable neck. An’ den de boss he come out dae an’ dar wus dat ole buzzard-meat done got up on he fo’ legs ergin, an’ des grazin’ rown on dem weeds—same 's ef he ain't had he bi fus—an’ de boss he laugh, an’ he laugh, an’ he say, * Hi, thought you say you can work anything whar stay on de groun.’ An’ I tole ‘im yes, I could, but dat ole horse want er cussin’—an’ I not_gwine lose my ‘ligion ferno horse ‘cep'in’ hit wus mine—an’ Istan’ ter dat fo’ anybody.” “T don’ blam but whar dat summer- time in de mornin’ ¢” “Go long, Rufe Malley ! yo’ mouf ’s no pra'ar book. Who ebber hear er summer. time in Febewary—and yo’ better not want Levi Goldstein, an enterprising clothier and » base-ball it twell dem rails 1s made.” crank, at the beginning of the season made the above munifl ‘The above is the fortunate slugger who won the prize. “IT don't—but seem ter me like de wedder cent donation, change wid yo’ mighty sudden.” cuxnoxee, comicbooks.com