Judge — March 2, 1889 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE MEN WE HAVE MET. EDWARD S. BRADFORD, MAYOR OF SPRINGFIELD, MASS, have all heard of Springfield, and many of us have been through the city on our ‘ay to ancient and honorable tea-parties and independent corps of cadets husking- bees in Bost ny idea that d had a real, live house !” instead of * Springfield!" on ing the locality ; and wl a doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know whether the Massasoit house cage or an ancestral estate, he is immensely surprised to hear “the mayor of this place” spoken of, Edward S, Bradford succeeded Elisha Burr Maynard as chief magistrate of Spring- field, Mr, Maynard Democrat, but this little item did not affect his non-reélection ast. ‘The Springfield people are a fun-loving community, and they concluded that nard’s middle name approached too closely to the stale and unprofitable for the ation of executive ability, and so they shelved him and wrapped the mantle of authority around Mr. Bradford, ‘The latter is not only spoken of, but is recorded as being the handsomest man in Massachusetts; and he and a General or a Colonel (we forget which) Butler of Lowell long ago ceased to be friends over a dispute on this point. He is tall, stylishly spare, and fully equipped with graceful four-wheel carriage and ele gant address and manners. A little girl who met him on the street one day remarked to her mother, “If angels weren't always dead people I'd like to be lifted up and hunt for Mr. Bradford's wings.” Mayor Bradford was born in Rhode Island, but the people of Springfield are full of tact and never speak of the unfortunate fact in his presence. So strongly is Mr, Bradford identified with the Baptist church that it was only a touch-and-go as to whether the trustees should deposit him in the corner-stone of the new edifice soon to be dedicated on Springfield's thoroughfare of costly temples, and taken all around he is an cighteen-carat representative of a brisk, clear-headed New England man, It’s.a great pity that he hasn't a larger borough than Springfield to keep in the traces, THE SLEIGH-RIDE PARTY. A merry, gay crowd was along. But the wind it blew cold though the s was yelled out of tune, then “Sweet Genevieve” floated in sp: astrong trace. Young voices were hushed on the following day. Here’s the doctor! What, swallow that pill ?" Yourig voices rang out on the evening air. Al and dales echoed the song. First * Rockabye Baby “'The Man in the Moon,” and the college songs broke so still? ‘The larynx will bu'st if you use it that w y was fair, and the hills ‘The horses grew weak at Ob! why were the singers DURING -THE STRIKE. On my lips a soft thanksgiving, At_my side an angel hovered. Would you know my threatened danger? And in awe I held my breath, Guarding me with jealous care ; T rode up Sixth avenue. For unscathed I had been passing Death, though longing for a victim, And my angel? A six-footer Through the very jaws of death Had not harmed a single hair. In poticeman’s suit of blue. PLENTY OF EXCUSE. these potatoes are burned, the biscuits are tough and the tea is simply tasteless.” Vell, dear, I'm sorry, but you know this was my afternoon for writing my column of recipes for the Bugle.” Reginald — Mercy, Mat Maria THOSE DELICATE FRENCH FEET. Mr. En. Gonrrey (af stage entrance)—" She's coming now, dear boy. 1 Monsirvr Stcann (the French horm-player)—"* Sacre! ect ces ver’ chilly choose for the first bow!” to-nights.”” comicbooks.com