Judge — May 31, 1890 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE HICK’RY BILL. IG MAN worked upon the farm, Long an’ lank he wuz o' limb, Hands they called him Hick'ry Bill ; ‘Twinklin’ eyes an’ touzled hair— Played the joos-harp fit to kill, ive him some ole rockin’-chair Tell ye what, ‘twuz like a charm ! An’ a joos-harp, suited him ; Mouth wide open, shinin’ teeth, Reg'lar genius with the thing, Fingers goin’ underneath ; Made the limber bizness sing, “ Money-musk” an’ ier's joy,” Foot a-workin' like a cog, “Uncle Ned" er ‘Ship ahoy !” Easy's rollin’ off a log ; Talk about your p'ints an’ skill ! He could make her fairly trill, Nuthin’ ekalled Hick'ry Bill, ‘This here awkward Hick’ry Bill, When the sun wuz gone to roost, Nuthin’ but a joos-harp too ; "Round the porch we used to set Yit, to hear that feller play After chores, an’ supper et ; ross the hills an’ fur away” Then, the insterment perjuced, You'd be started ‘fore you knew ; Hick'ry thar the silence stirred While the music 'peared to go— Like some willful mockin'-bird, “Swing yer pardners!" “Heel an’ toe!" Il that orn'ry piece o' steel An’ a sound like tromp o' feet er sorter made you feel Seemed the echoes to repeat. Dancin’ somewhar to its will Cain't fergit him ; never will. “Long o' that ‘ar Hick'ry Bill. He wuz lightnin'—Hick'ry Bill, mnnsT MCGAPrRY. MEMORIAL DAY. DOWN the road from the business part of the village, across the creek that babbles along from up in the ridge of hills, a little to the right there, and the resting-place of the heroes of the rebellion that Podersville sent to the front is in full view. Podersville was full of patriotism then and it is full of patriotism now, for each soldier's grave is marked with the little flag of the country he served and died for, and the flags were put there by the loving hands of those left behind. : Flowers, too, : = deck the A SOMBRE CARGO. mounds, Canarsie BoaTMAN—" Got any blue-fish ?” beautiful Discusrep sxiprer—"No; nawthin’ but blue dudes.” wreaths and choicest nosegays, and the private who fought and fell in the ranks is remembered equally with the colonel who led the charge. Podersville is far removed from the great cities of the country, where Memorial day is celebrated with big processions and many bands of music and wagon-load after wagon-load of flowers. Poders- : ville is away from the beaten line of travel. It has no band. There is AN ASSERTION OF AUTHORITY—1. no procession, But the four hundred graves in the cemetery are deco- Mrs, ConreLy—' Will yez hould th’ eyesthers till Oi buy a paper, Pat?’ Fated just the same, and love goes with each flower, with each stem, Mr. ConreLy —“' Of'll not. Me hands is full.” with each petal. Over there is the grave of John Pemberton. None of his name survive him to-day, but the story of his bravery is told, and the young people of this generation take the places left vacant by his kinsmen, and his grave blooms as the rest. - The rural cemetery is a field of stars and stripes and flowers—the flags to prove the strength and endurance of the nation and the blossoms to evince the undying gratitude and love of the people thereof. 3 ‘The one day in the year set apart to honor the memories of the soldier-boys is vastly different in the city and the village. The quiet sanctity of the latter is in great contrast to the business-like methods of the former. But it is a difference only in methods, and all know that the heart of the nation beats for the dead hero. THE PUN CONQUERED. WHEN old Corporal Briggs refused to pop a dish of corn for his five-year-old grand-daughter she ventured to say, “Well, you're not much of a grand popper if you don't.” And the corporal laid down the “War Reminiscences” without a murmur. THE VETERANS. THEY meet and call each other “boys” On Decoration day ; Yet every face is marked with years And all the heads are gray. WHERE WILL IT END? ‘THOSE. must be the veterans,” she said. “Yes; and those immediately following are the sons of vet- he replied. cs5 x “But there seems to be another company, of very small boys.” AN ASSERTION OF AUTHORITY—2. “Yes; those are the sons of the sons of veterans. Mrs, Conrety —** Yez'll not? An’ yez wil//” comicbooks.com