Judge — October 22, 1887 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE KITTY’S AUTOGRAPH ALBUM. VER thy fair pages lovers r ardency have trem'led Asthey drummed upon thy covers And the muse’s hosts assembled Here a lover’s-knot—nor bluer In its true the heavens bend : Here a couplet, tend’rer, truer Than by Byron ever penned ; Here a dainty film of laces Pasted ‘tween the snowy pages. Followed by a dozen faces toutlimn the lapse of ag upon the last page, Kitty— a scrawl —perhaps—oh t maybe Tecan solve it if Pm witty— Autograph of our last baby. OS ReLLRR, IT MUST HAVE HAD STRENGTH. Eastern man—* Have you noticed, Miss Ransom, how the people of to-day are geing back to mythology for names ?” Chicago girl— , indeed. Why it was only yesterday that brother Charles decided ro call a new brand of chee . nanufactured by him the Hercules.” ALL HIS OWN. They were talking about bald-headed pe: “Why,” said one of the party to * Yes,” was the trimmphant response, ple before Jones. hairs left.” % TOO MUCH SMILE. Theconversition had turned on a young ly whose mouth, when she smiled, seemed to stretch from ear to ear, Yes, but she has such handsome teeth.” “Tru teeth, wh but she will some day lose her » ner smile will remain. NOT AN ORTHODOX DOG. “Whatever have you done loves little dog you used to hi Miss DeLancey. “Why, my ¢ was the confidential reply, “Thad to exchange him at the de fancier’s. He was a good summer pet, but he didn't mateh at all with my new sealskin ith that usked AS FAR AS IT GOES. “ Well, papa, what do you think of my Hea nit believe in decollete) —* Oh 10% what there is of It." [Ont OctonE: Flashed under billows of bor AIMEE, 3, 1887.) less blue, By come tidings sad, to-day She, who di Who cha ighted old world 1 us all from Fran nd new, to Peru, Is dead—Ia jolie, petite Aimee. Dead? The sweet Then adien, “La Perichole!” little song-bird is mute, you say? Mute is *La Parfumense” so drole? And “Madame Angot ?” Ix dead, lack the La charmante, piquante Ah! many a role Aimee ! y! And is she gone? Of opera bouffe the rare bouquet— Whose chic, effronterie, abandon, Our ¢ Mon hen! 'y fancy has wrought upon? Ma panvre petite— Aimee! HOWARD KEELY. IRISHTOCRACY IN SHANTYTOWN. Mrs. MeCarty—* Sure, Misthress Moriarty, ye bees sthartin’ a farry Mrs. Moriarit, the plants left ove: round yer house. “Farrum, indade! It’s me conservathory from. decoration du, THE LAST RESORT. Lady (to fond mamma)—* Oh, the little boy will improve ashe grows older.” Fond mamma UNFAMILIAR WITH THE ARTICLE. AGExT (showing howse: u see it is fitted with all the modern conveniences Prosrectivy. TENANT— "Vat reduction vos you maig on der rendt, obf ve takes ¢ range unt prings our own shtofe » . To some n Without it they are nothing worth indeed, ‘* His papa gets so outof patience with him! He mitends to educate him, as he will be good for nothing else.” en money is a real need: comicbooks.com