Judge, 1889 · page 35 of 72
Judge — 1889 — page 35: what you’re looking at
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BEST THINGS FROM JUDGE. AT MRS. MALONEY'S. “‘And so, Mrs. Maloney, yez bin afther openin’ up a boord- in’ house? Well, it's a ‘plucky woman yez are, to be sure, wid a house full 0’ brats, to be un- dertakin’ of sich throubles, in- dade, indad “Ts it yez mane to be afther onsulthen me, Mrs. McFlynn, byspakin’ of the undthertaker in the same brith wid me boord?” “Ye mishtake me_intirely, Mrs. Maloney; but sence yez feel to be so insulthed Oi may as well be afther tellin’ yez that me husband overheerd—acci- dental loike— Pat Rooney a tellin’ o’ Johnn nnigan that the creepin’ things as wuz crawlin’ round an’ over him had his shirts fer ays yez called it erious disappearance’ in Johnny Flan- 's up and he says, says he, ‘Arrah! now, Pat, thim same creepin’ things niver carried off yez shirt at all, at all. Thim same is too much VANQUISHED ON THE ROOF GARDEN. ingaged in practicin’ their Para (decisively) “This blamed extravagance has got to stop! If you can't check it I shall have to !" Je of phlewbottomy.” ‘An’ Miss MARGIE, (sweetly)—" That's just what I want you to do, papa, Draw the check fora hundred and fifty. 1 what moight that be? says © squecze along on that until next week.”” Pat. ‘Blood-lettin’,’ reploies ~ _ - Johnny.” niver a shirrut has that same Pat Rooney but the wan on “Indade now, Mrs. McFlynn, it's widout sarcasity that I’m sayin’ his back and another in the landry ; and by the same tokens it's an auctioneer yez ort to be, so glib are yez a cryin’ off sici id whin one goes out for the washin’ he carries the ither one things. As for Pat Rooney's shirruts, it's all aloi on the face iv around, av coorse. i'll have yez know Oi makes it me bi: ness to open all the drawers and thrunks of me boorders ivery THE LAST OF HIS RACE. day, so Oi can be sure nothin’ is afther bein’ takin’ from thim. It's moi duty, Mrs. McFlynn, it's moi duty to go to all that throuble ; and as for me boord, no one kin be havin’ betther, for shure me b ye call thim, get the ser: from the best iv houses ii ry, soin faith Oi kin is of the best and furrest-class in ivery respict. As fer the blood- lettin’, the bottomy, I knows nothin’ whatsumever about. Shure the beautifoo! purple color on his face and nose i thrue affidavit to that loi, Mrs. McFlynn, as thrue an affiday: as the stringth of yer breath is to the quality of Barney O'Harrigan’s whiskey. IN A PREDICAMENT. “There's a nice old lady lives here,” said the tramp to a companion, as he gave a tap on the back door. “There ain't nobody to home,” said the companion after minutes, ‘What are you going to do?” “She'd never forgive me if she knew If came near here and didn’t stop, and—well, by thunder !|—I hain't got any of my calling cards left, neither.” THE PEDANT. In other's thoughts he is most learned, His own are yet to be discerned ; Lorp Huccermuc— At lawst our noble game's before us! We'll stalk him He gives the bright ideas of many, and draw lots for the first shot, y’ know.” While he himself can’t boast of any; A walking book-shelf, furnished full Of much that's wise and beautiful, In which he ne'er can claim estate, ‘Though proud to bear the mental weight, WICKED WASTE OF MATERIALS. He had a fine theory about wholesomeness of cereals, and breakfasted and suppered upon one or another to the ex- clusion of everything else. One morning, however, as he for the twentieth time removed a sharp-pointed husk from between his lips he ventured to inquire the nature of the dish he was eating. ‘Fluted wheat,” was his wife’s response. «* Well,” he calmly remarked, as he set aside the dish, ‘I think you forgot to remove the fluting needles,” THE WHOLE TRUTH. Customer (impatiently)—" Hello, there! What's sugar this f morning ?” Stasien Dick (the cow puncher)—* Easy, fellers1_ Ten dollars a shot, an’ no GROCER (hurrying up from the cellar, absent-mindedly)—‘‘Same monkeyin’. Iain't runnin’ this last-stake shootin’-gallery fer fun!" as usual, glucose and sand.” comicbooks.com