Judge — May 31, 1890 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE AN OLD MAID. Seems I give the whole thing up, an’ think says I— Bein’s I've lived alone till fohty, reckon my Life kin hobble on alone till time to die. REMEMBER when that narrer face o' hern Hed pink cheeks an’ eyes so bright they ‘peared to burn ; An’ her smiles was sweet an’ sassy stidder stern, ‘Thet was when my bones was somethin’ limberer they are of late !—'twas when I called on her Kind-uh steady—what yeh might call regaler. But to-day some women gassin’ in the shade Of the peach-tree yander spoke of Nancy Slade— Said they reckoned she was born for an old maid ! Always meant some time to bid her name the day; Yit somehow I didn't do it—jest my way ‘To keep puttin’ off !—I'm given to delay. Well, sirs! all my blood went b'ilin’ at her name! All thet old love, hot with pity as a flame, Rared up till I went an’ told her how it came Now the years crep’ off an’ wrinkles they crep in. Love's a mighty ‘ily crittur—slick as sin Fer to slide out at a loop-hole small an’ thin ! ‘Thet I hedn’t ast her sooner. An’ some how When I saw her list'nin’, blushin’, chin to brow— Why, I felt like life was unly startin’ now EVA WILDER MCGLASSON, CELEBRATING DECORATION DAY. . 66 [ T WILL soon be Decoration day,” remarked one of the boys. “That's what!" assented Uncle Peleg Weatherwax; “and | that reminds me that this holiday is not celebrated as it ought to be. I tell you, the way the American people have got to cuttin” | up on Decoration day is a disgrace to the patriotic spirit of the United States.” I believe you are right there,” added Jack Romer as Peleg looked around for corroboration. Of course I'm right! Tell me, if you can, when your Uncle Peleg Weatherwax happened to be wrong. Some of you | nominate the occasion if possible.” As nominations were slow in coming forward Mr, Weath- crwax proceede: Now, when | was young, forty years ago or more, the cel- ebration of Decoration day hadn't degenerated, as it has now, | into merry-making and carousing and "— | “Why, uncle, what are you giving us?” asked one of his nephews, who was only thirteen years old. “There wasn't any |! | such thing as Decoration day forty years ago.” “When I was young,” resumed Uncle Peleg in a severe | tone, and looking straight at the interrupter; “when I was young little chits of boys wearing abbreviated knickerbockers ( were not permitted to contradict their elders, and to pretend to know more than anybody else!" Mr. Cripce —* Da’s jes’ d’ way! When I's lucky 'nough ter find a honey-nest dem i good-| re Having thus crushed the rash young man who essayed to ate Begins F CO8 A Aa" Howe aan ark Ihe Mit wae 8 seeeoiee! correct his anachronism, Uncle Peleg proceeded: “Forty years ago, gentlemen, when I was young, Decoration day was celebrated as it should be. departed heroes, and orators spoke eulogies. There was no going to base-ball games” “Base-ball wasn’t invented then!" exclaimed the hunter for anachronisms, who had recovered from his former crushing. “Will you kindly subside, my child?” asked Uncle Peleg paternally. The child subsided. . “In those days you never saw the young men going off into the woods on Decoration day and putting in its sacred hours shooting at a mark, You never heard of them going fishing on a day dedicated to the solemn memory of the men who died that we might have a country. You never heard in those good old times of men who ought to know better getting into the cars and riding a dozen miles to some shady grove where they could dance and guzzle beer all day!” “Things have changed,” remarked Jim McWatty as Uncle Peleg finished his impressive speech. “Indeed they have!” the old man declared vigorously. By the way, Jim, what are you going to do with yourself on Deco- ration day “Oh,” replied Jim, tipping a sly wink to the crow: thought I'd go out to Skeeterville, in Jersey, that day. “What's goin’ on?” Uncle Peleg Weatherwax seemed interested. “You know that English bull-dog of Simcoe’s that’s never been whipped?” “Yes; course.” “Well, young Jaysmith—but this is a dead secret, you know, Uncle Peleg.” “I'm mum! Proceed!" “Well, young Jaysmith has just bought a dog of the same breed, and he’s never been whipped either.” “Yes; go on!” Uncle Peleg was getting impatient. “Well, these dogs are about as perfect a match as they can be—same weight, Flowers were placed on the graves of kinder “They are. “At Skeeterville 2” “That's the place.” = ; “On Decoration day?” UNDER HER BREATH. “Yes; and for a purse of fifty dollars Mes Conan" Whiants Pane” “Jim, your uncle will go along. Call for me when you are hisht, Dalia!" ready. Now promise!” DNLAN—"" Aise yure face. It's an upright we're havin’ took.” Jim promised and then the crowd dispersed. www, sivrre comicbooks.com