Judge — November 1, 1890 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

JIM'S STORY. ‘LL TELL you plain, if I do To brace myself right firm I'll cry : This solt wind and this haze and sun And the gold and red that melt and run ‘And splash the hils—and she not bere To say things about the dying year! Didn't I tell you? Oh, I see— ‘They called her Dora—all but me For she was a delicate lady born. And I—well, I was huskin’ corn Sol called her Miss. She was stayin’ here For the country air the heft of a year. Sometimes she'd sit out under a tree ‘And watch the hired man work— that's me ; But she got so frail-like along in the fail ‘That she didn't weigh nothin, wraps and all, And the women folks yot me io lend a hand Movin’ her out in the sun to be tanned. ‘That's what they said ; but she didn't seem To care about jokin'— just wanted to dream And look at the follage, gold and red, and talk about bein’ dead ! ‘ell, no; not exactly that : But 1 used to puiter ‘round where she sat, Just watchin’ her, sort of, under the rim Of my hat, and wishia’ she'd call me Jima! Hever have’ that felio'?/" Well ¥ never cared When I stole a look at her, sittin’ so still ‘And holdin’ the red leaves in her hands, totin’ some song. about lotus lands— ne place where it's always afternoon— ina voice that was softs ‘And 0.1 just listened Ofiay bats sort of wishin’ she'd call me J ‘That kind of girls ain't for such a8 me— Nor for nobody elves fur's | can see: ; j For they just cree, into a hired man’s heart ; : s ae When the leaves tu.n fed and the brown burs part ; = fe nit snows and the skies are lead in the house—you know who's dead ! 7 . 7 eNOT ight to murmur, but somehow yet, | COMPLIMENT. ‘Try hard as I may, I can never forget * ¥ . " te . How 1 thrlted when her white hand touched my arm ; : y—""Don't you think Miss Wamley is very attentive to the new And now when the trees are red on the farm minister 7 Sireny hat, sort of wishin’ ah call me Jicn! AUNT Pettigrew —" Who could help it? Why, I never met such a lady-like gos- w & ToMER siper as he is in my INCREDIBLE, BOB HOPKINS, a confirmed Bohemian, bent on a little gunning, called on an artist friend equipped in a brand-new pair of hunting-boots, “Well! Tl bet you can’t guess how I got them,” was his reply to the artist's natural reference to his new possession.” The latter went over the long list of expedients known to the seedy brotherhood to get what they haven't got, but was at last forced to give it up. “My dear boy, you're not ‘in it’! I'd wager doughnuts to dollars, every time, that you couldn't guess. Why, I paid for them.” HE WANTED PIE, Tramp (to lady who has coal to be shoveled) —" If you will give me a good square meal, mum, I'll put a part of tha A RIVAL'S SCHEME, Lady ed, gives i the s coal - “You may go to work now.” Hocunan Gieremnttag)— t wasn’t no square meal, mum. ‘There wasn’t no pie. thin—wan, two, tree; come to me arrms_me’——! He’ th’ banshee’s cat! th’ wan thot filled thot bag-pipe wid wather niver sees th’ light av another mor-rnin’ !" DISTURBED REPOSE. Loxp Raccrrs—"* There don’t seem to be much life at these American races, deah bo} Hockenstetn —" Oxcuse me, chentlemens, my vife vos fainded on det Couxt Vos Grarr—"* Dey vos mosd stupid as effer vas.” grant-shtand !” Prince REGNEAUX —"' Eet ees vaire quiet. comicbooks.com J