Judge — November 9, 1889 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

TRAGEDY OUT WEST. HILE I lived out in Leadville, ‘one night they had a show— A trash-edy, they called it; and bless me, what a "go!" Mate Anderson her name was—well, she had lots to do, And how she made the fur fly around ‘that platform—whew ! T went and tuk my fam'ly—jest five on us all told; We had the best seats in the hall that could be got for gold : The band it tooted for a while and then the curtain rose, And pretty soon Mate she comes out in loose, white-colored clothes. The fust few words she spoke as if her mouth was full of snow, But as she went on talkin’ more they warm enough did grow ; * She chased the vilyan all around and tore her hair in rage, And finally she got co tired she squatted on the stage ; And while she laid there very still, as if she jest had died, The folks was all surprised to bear it rainin’ hard outside. Great drops come peltin’ on the roof, that weighed an ounce, I guess; ‘They made us lonesome as the yelp of coyotes in distress. ‘Then all at once Mate she jumps up and toward her feller veers, And tatks to him in such a voice it almost starts my tears. Jest then I looked around and seen the women's faces hid FALSE PREMISES. Behind their cotton handkerchiefs—they felt so bad, they did. * res * 5 Scimc'st tke pave Svea tant saticad’ coamed Calbe we Brewitter (who knows it all)—" They ain't no danger 's long ‘s yer keep T tried my best to keep mine dry, but it was hard, you bet. behind th’ critter. My cousin useter ‘tend one of 'm down t’ Lridgeport an’ he knows Well, Mate she kept right on a-talkin' sweet stuff to that chap, 'm root an’ branch, And when she stopped to ketch her breath we heerd a thunder-clap ; ‘And then her words was sadder stiller actin’ awful cute: A CAUTIOUS REJOINDER. T never felt like cryin’ so—oh, she was jest a bute! Saletan Jeat then Jim Squecrs, the editor, he rls from bis chai? AN ELEGANTLY dressed woman asked to be shown some silk for gowns, and Giim’s kindy slick, y° know ; his learnin’s pretty fair), made the unfortunate clerk hand down and unfold piece after piece without Says he—and as he spoke you could a-heerd a fallin’ pin— coming to any decision. Come, less all cry—why, even Jove hisself he can't hold in!" ° y—why, rend Finally she concluded she would prefer some patterns that she had first looked “That was the signal for us all to go to bawlin’ loud ; at, which involved the turning over of the entire pile, and at last asked : You never seen in all your life so babyish a crowd. ae z a ‘ es style is worn?” Soo.never eco inal Yous Wie bebb 9 cow ‘Are you quite sure, sir, that this style is worn? Tonly knowed "twas sunthin’ rood and nice to ery about ; “It was, madam,” And Mate she stood there bowin’, jest as cool as cool could be answered the cle Awaitin’ till there was a chance to end that trash-e-dy. Tried until I got ashamed, as brave men cryin’ should, “when you came in, But I am bound to say that cryin’ really done me good. but after the period Mate Anderson jest once or twice almost drawed out my tears, that has since.clapsed But I'd a kept 'em back, I'm sure, only for old Jim Squeers. I LEON MEAD. should not like to say for certain.” AT THE PRIVATE VIEW. MATLOcK, sk.—''It's a mighty goot! painting, any way. What's its title? Mattock, Jx.—''It hasn't any, I believe, worth*having. I understand the sheriff attached it for studio-rent yesterday.” AUTUMN. H, SWEET and sad the mournful autumn days ‘That slowly minuet a-down the valley ! Their orchestra, the birds’ last roundelays ‘And rattling coal heaped in the neighboring alley. Yon sad-eyed priestess swings her censer low, Faint, slumbering fire with which to appease.the weather ; I quaff her incense wheresoe’er I go Her burning leaves and summer's worn-out leather, Linu ADASS TERNER, A LONG ENGAGEMENT. She—"1 haven't anything new to sing to you to-night, George.” *He—" Well, give me something old then.” She broke into a refrain that was “a song of the day” seventeen years before. A FUTURE POSSIBILITY, He (at the close) — That's very, very old, Clara.” SENATOR BACKBEY (of Massachusetts) —"* Rawther odd, isn’t it, Who's it for?” She—"Yes, George; I sang that to you the night we PAGE —"* Your colleague, Senator Sullivan, sir.” became engaged.” comicbooks.co