Judge — September 24, 1887 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE HER BATHING DRESS. ‘TWAS not in love with her I fell, Althongh I know I liked her well And thought her costumes very swell, And bonnets stunning. “Twas that delicious bathing dress That wrapped her form in fond caress, And clung about her loveliness With careful cunning! ‘Twas such a charming, chic affai With satin knottings here and the And glimpses swift of laces rare, In damp confusion : A symphony in bright maroon, Begun so: low, and stopped so soon, A sweet scng to a perfect tune— ‘A dream illusion Her white arms gleamed beneath the laco, Her wind-tossed curls blew ‘round her face While folded in the foam's embrace She looked upon me. Her laughing eyes were shining bright, Her dimpled hands were flashing white, ‘And, mid the breakers left and right, She smiled »nd won met Thelped her o'er the shell-strewn sand, Across thé yielding, wave-flecked strand, And pressed her dripping dimpled hand: She tried to scold me. An effort bold at last T made, While sea-foam on her tresses played— I whispered, “ Is it tailor made?” ‘And so she told me! KITTIE A CLEVER PARENT. Jones was trying to write a business letter the other evening in the bosom of his family. One of the olive —bran- ches permit ted himself KNEW A GOOD THING, to make a Motnen—* Now, Lionel, to-morrow you will be three years old, tnd if you are a good naughty re. >¥ You shall have a nice little cake and three candles.” ‘ mark. Jones: Liowet (slowly)—" I would rather have three nice little cakes and one candle. was on hand = promptly with his paternal reproof, and added: “Look here, my son; you should remember that although very busy 1 can write with one eye and hear with the other.” MAKING THE BEST OF IT. “Oh, my!” cried Mrs. Brown; “I've chipped a piece off the old-fashioned plate my poor dear grandmother gave me.” “Never mind,” consoled old Brown. ‘Chip a few more pieces off and you'll have a rare bit of bric-u-brac.” ‘A GENEROUS PROPOSAL. Brves (insinuatingly)— Pow'ful good that terbacker amelis.” Gracos—" Yes, it's fine, Arter I light up you git ‘round ter leeward of me, an’ I'll shout by ‘lowin’ a leetle of th’ amoke ter blow on ye.” THE END OF MY VACATION. Though the days are so balmy, the heavens so blue, To the mountains and streams must I bid az adieu? In the heyday of autumn inust I reappe At the desk and be bullied by Brown, the cashier? Yes, time's up, I must go, my vacation is o'er ; Over stupid account books ayain 1 must pore. There's no help for it, none ; the firm wen't brook del: I must pack my portmanteau and hasten away. Though the leaves of the forest are tinging with gold, And woodland and meadow fresh beauties unfold, I must hie me to Gotham—what's worse, when I'm there, ‘To a narrow hall bed-room and boarding-house fare. On nature's sweet features I gaze with a sigh, And the tear-drop unwonted creeps into my eye. Must I lose her with autumn’s first bloom on her cheek ¢ Yes, I must, or else lose fifteen dollars a week. Then farewell to green meadows and forest-clad hills ! Farewell to bright lakelets and murmuring rills ! ‘A FAMILY TURNOUT. Farewell to fresh butter, fresh eggs, and hot cakes, ‘Mims Parrti—* My mother, grandmother, and my aunt will go too. Won't ft be nice, Arthur f* And away to my landlady’s vulcanite steaks ! And poor Coles wan thunderstruck, for he had bren pluming himself on the fine time he was going to have Wm manser. alone with hie girl