Judge — January 25, 1890 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE MY BOSTON GIRL. II, SO fair end full her cheek is With its freight of ruby blushes, As she murmurs, ‘0, this Greek is Most superlatively luscious : Sweeter and more soothing is it than the song of woodland thrushes, Like an open book my heart is, But she runs to other reading, And her mind from morning's start is On Homeric tidbits feeding ; And her heart at evening’s end is to some Grecian goddess pleading. Mental harness is she weaving From this web of Greek and Latin, And, effeminate foibles leaving, Never speaks of silk or satin ; BOUND TO BE PATRONIZED. SESORA X.,a worthy business woman in Rio, in despair at having lost the empress as a patron, changed her sign, after the recent bloodless revolution, so as to read as follows : Sefiora X., Corset-maker to the Republic of Brazil. A LOW-BORN TASTE. George—"You scem distant to-night, Clara. Have I offended you in any w: Clara —"Yes, George; 1 may as well tell you first as last that I cannot encourage the attentions Leaves unplucked the morning-glory, hears no meadow-songster’s Of @ man who persists in using misfit hair-oil. matin. bitter thinking my rivals all are sages— Men whose names have known no sinking From imperishable pages ; at the corn has curled its tassels over them these several ages ! Well for time-clad Aristophanes he is no longer breathin; in his clayey coffin i For my sword would shirk all sheathi ‘Vill L knew the clovers o’cr him funeral coronets were wreathing. JAY Dre. SELF-SACRIFICE COULD NO FURTHER GO. GMIFKESS js stupidity and conceit rolled into one. That imbecile,” said some one, referring to him, “spends his time in trying to put the fool’s-cap on the heads of other peopl “Tut how great a risk he runs,” was the sarcastic reply, “of catching cold himself. WHY THE AVERAGE MAN IS A — SOYVIIAT is your party faith?" quoth 1; young man promptly answered me, “And why?" Ie stopped perplexedly— “It was my father’s faith,” said he. THE MODERN WAY. Femate friend —* Doesn't your servant girl ask you when she wants to go out evenings?’ Mrs, Jorgenson —" Oh, dear, no. ask her when I want to barrel av pertaties ON THE AVENUE. CLaxcaxty —" Phwhat's that bundle yez hov ferninsht yez?” Mas, CLANcanty — iff," CLancarty—"' Well, put some shtyle on yez, an’ doan’ be carryin’ it like it wor a Me new shquirrel’s-hair mift. SENTENCES PASSED BY THE JUDGE. I" IS EASIER to fall into-a pit than to climb out of it. If pity presupposes love, contempt as surely annihilates it. ‘There is an end of all things if we can only hold on long enough it. No disappointment can be quite so intolerable as disappointment in one's self, It does not soothe or encourage a man to be confronted with his own philosophy in moments of despondency. It is the spark within the bosom which warms and bri; than any reflection from outward circumstances. All things come round to him who will but wait, though the chances are that in the meantime he will lose all appetite for them. ie workings of jealousy are subtle and invidious, and not until one has been warned by the sting and the pain of the nettle can it be crushed. Life is a chase in which every known ideal is brought to the ground by the pursuing hounds of experience; and a man is required always to be in at the death, Still is it well to idealize; a thousand times is it well that the soul never loses this faculty, and that the last ideal is as potent in its in- fluences as the first. By a law unaccountable to reason, the ridiculous is more trying to love's loyalty than a downright state of wickedness or inefficiency, aught save the contemptible. A SURPRISING LOSS. . KENNELLY (soho alwoars travels with his doc) —"* Look here, waiter ; you've got to get me another sandwich, [just turned to look out of the window SU and some blamed thief took the other one the horizon of my own too narrow personality.” To the true philosopher there is never a moment, even in the depths of agonized oppression, when he cannot say to himself, “ It will pass. i The stars still shine though I sce them not. To-morrow the will rise and dissipate these: vapors which confine my vision to KATHOINE CHOSJEAN. comicbooks.com |,