Judge — February 2, 1889 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

A MISTAKEN DIAGNOSIS. HE WAS from Boited springs, Vermont, and he stood in front of a down-town window in which an athletic young man was exhibiting a pat- ent rowing-machine. As the brawny shoulders gave long, sweeping motion to the handies, and the grace- ful figure glided back and forth on the slides, Mr. McGranite’s eyes bulged and his lower jaw crept softly down until a circular- saw could have been later- ally inserted in his mouth. “Ef that thar don’t beat all I ever see, I'll trot oxen !" he said to himself, out loud, *Th’ idee of bein’ able t’ set down an’ take it easy like that. Wa-a-l, wea-al He stood there for ten minutes or so, part of the time bending down to get a better sight at the mechanism, and finally, being unable to control his curiosity, he looked about him in a frightened kind of way and apologetically stole into the store. Coming close up behind the man at work he leaned over, and getting his mouth close tothe other's ear by a kind of swaying motion in accord with the rower, he inquired, friend ! how long does she take git it what ?” asked the man of muscle, “Butter. * Butter?” “ Yes, butter.” “Look here, old crank-shaft,”” was the reply, “this ain’t no churn, “What is it?” It’s the first machine ever built for killing hayseeds by electricity, and the power's almost ready.” Mr. McGranite, at last accounts, was still running away from the locality of that store. IS NATURE A DISSEMBLER? Like some chaste bloom of modest tints, with melting eyes of dew, Who, breeze-kissed, blushes, bends and droops for fear the sun may view— A model for a Vesta when to public gaze unveiled — ‘A woman upon whom all woman's virtues seem entailed... Is nature a dissembler? I will not the dame asperse. But such a woman may indite the most erotic verse. J. A. WALDKON. LASTING FAME. PORTLAND, MAINE, CITIZEN (returning from Washington trip)—"* tell Yor, Mary, Tom Reed is the popularest man in the deestric’ of Columbia. Why, they even have birds named after him on th’ hotel bills-of-fare.” ON THE “ANNIBAL ISLAND. Anticipation. an a Disappointment. PUTTING IT IN A DIFFERENT LIGHT. In the garden. “Are you not ashamed, cousin, to kill a pretty little bird like that ?” But, my dear girl, 1 thought it would look so well in your hat.” “True, I didn’t think of that! It’s exactly the same shade of gray. are very kind!" IN A DEVOTIONAL MOOD. The minister—"As your guardian, Lucille, | must insist upon your reg- ular attendance at devotional servic His charge——" Why, then, guardy, what makes you use such dreadfully dreadful words? You needn't insist at all. I've got a new love of a bonnet and a perfect dream of a wrap, and I'd just as lieve go as not.” Why a ship's like a woman--conundrums are many; But this reason, perbaps, is far better than any: ‘That one thing peculiar in each mother's daughter— She slips off her stays when she goes in the water. “ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER.” Aunt Harriet (to her city niece)—" 1 can't see, S) why that lady next door came in a carriage to leave her card for you, after goin’ every- where else fir Sylvia—" Why, because I'm a next-door neighbor, and of course the last to be thought of.” comicbooks.com