Judge — March 15, 1890 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE ST. PATRICK’S DAY IN THE MORNIN’. URE, knot me a ribbon of emerald green! Let a shamrock me coat be adornin’ ; An’ give me a kiss too, me pretty collees ‘On St. Patrick’s day in the mornin’, An’ T'll jine the procession so gallant an’ fay, An’ around me none needn't come fawnin’, For sure I'm as big as the prisident to-day, St. Patrick's day in the mornin’, ‘See me coat! did ye e’er see a nater? ‘An’ me mouth! did ye e’er taste a swater? Sure, ye know Tam lookin’ a dandy ! Me shillelah T handle so handy ! Oh, Molly, aroon! ye remember the isle ‘That we raised the petatys an’ corn in; To-day she lies baskin’ ‘neath heaven's ight smile Patrick’s day in the mornin’, TN be marchin’ away neath the banner so green Of the land we could ne'er feel forlorn in ‘Though the last sup an’ bite in the cabin was seen On St. Patrick's day in the mornin’. ‘An we'll march brave an’ gayly to honor the saint Who to evil an’ sin gives a warnin’ ; Whose name is so free from dishonor an’ taint, On this day of his birth in the morni For he gave our swate isle such a clani That no reptiles at all can remain in, An’ made her, swate " gim of the ocean," ‘The shrine of our heart's deep devotion. Three cheers for ould Ireland! gim ofthe sea, ‘The swate little isle I was born in. ‘Three cheers for Ameriky—land of the free, On St. Patrick’s day in the mornin’! EARNEST PROHIBITIONIST—"* We CORA BUZZRLL MILLAY. are canvassing for recruits. You don't believe in free rum, do ESPIEL—“Nod mooch !" Prompitionist —"* Halle- ret Tujah ! Hicctesrie.—"I owns dot saloon; you bed I don'd gif trinks avay, alreatty !" THE NEWSPAPER that hasn't a pet fund and isn’t begging for one may be be- hind the times, but it has some matter in it that is really worth reading. The words “Subscribe for the blank fund” are almost as weari- some as the daily announce- ments of the great things to be in the Sunday issue. MB: TILDEN was one of the ablest lawyers. this country ever had, and the charge that he drew a will giving a library to this city with the intention of having the will broken in behalf of vif 7 J! his heirs is unworthy of any- ty fra “¢ body who has faith in human IN TRAINING. nature. But what a wonder DitHMar—" Why are you fishing for that dog with those trousers, Taber?” it is that the litigation didn’t Taner —" Well, you see, they are like the ones my daughter's new mash wears, and when I let the dog loose, he'll swallow the bequest. know whom to tackle.” HUM OF THE COURT. E CANNOT believe that the kaiser wrote poetry when a young man; or—stay! whose poetry did he write? WHEREVER M. Halstead may go when he dies, he will be amply em- ployed through eternity in telling how he got there. ‘ SQLD-TIME head-gear is the fashion at present,” says the /nfer-Ocean, Referring, dear sir, to the ribbons or the intellect ? TYPE-WRITING, we learn from a contemporary, has come to be a pro- fession. Yea, verily; and so have eloping and divorcing. R. COLUMBUS said reflectively when he discovered the country, “In my opinion the birth of Chauncey Depew has already been too much delayed.” HEY TELL of a bank cashier who has been honest thirty years; but they omit the little item regarding his method of starving to death on his salary. HE WORD “hustler” is the coarsest, meaningless slang. ‘Nobody should use it. If you want to say you are from Chicago say it in plain, frank, honest English. ‘THE JUDGE may have reflected somewhat on the peculiarities of Chicago; but that, as we recently remarked to Mr. John L. Sullivan, was years ago —years and years ago. E HAVE never doubted that Senator Blair would finish his speech. He is a resolute man, and such men never allow their speeches, however formidable, to finish them. THE WRONG PARTY. CaLt-noy (from outside, who thinks he's found the dressing-room of the head chorus-girl)— There's a gent at th’ stage-door who sent T IS NECESSARY to watch the graves of deceased millionaires to keep You in a big bouquet, and says he will meet you at ¢leven for dinner at ds 5 3 the Brownswig. their bones from being stolen. In the case of the ordinary man the only Rooney (the low-comedian's understudy) —"* Lave th’ flooers at th’ fear is that there won't be music enough to drum them together. dure, an‘ tell him Rooney's willin', It’s great t’ be famis !" comicbooks.com