Judge — November 22, 1890 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

SOCIETY AS SEVERAL OF US HAVE SOUNDED IT. L HONK GARRETTSON, RECENTLY OF GREENBRIER, TENNESSEE, ‘S GWINE ¢ tell mah story, en 'f aftah mullin’ frough mah wohds yo’ feels 's ef yo'd been ridin’ on a treeang’ler, cross-split rail, wid a pa’r ob cord'roy breeches on to yo", don’ lay hit t' mah c'nceit, but size hit up agin d’ fac’ dat I’s int'rested in mah subjec’. Gawdus! but dem wuz lubly mount'ns down dar. Oowali ‘n- me (mah wife kep’ her gran'mam’s name frough free gin'rations ob. mastahs, on d’ stren’th ob d’ ole lady's bein’ voudooed) usty set out'n side d’ cab'n-do’ en wunner ‘n wunner whar d’ color come from dat kind’r soff'ned 'm down en made Kershaw's still, under d’ shadder ob Shock rock, look laik hit wus nigh ‘nough t’ smell. Happ'ness in dem days wuz laik what pol'tics ‘n d'votion is in d’ presen’—dey wuz loads ob it, en barrin’ wet mornin's when d’ coon- ouldn’ dog-nose, en glist’nin’ nights when objec’s wuz too kinspicuous ‘roun’ Squar’ Classon’s hen-coops, me en Oolie usty be drefful clus’ t’ Adam 'n Ebe'nin’. Den ‘long come liddle Enoch, Bress d’ mitey stars! but dat chile jess laid criss-cross in our hearts en kicked up he's heels ‘gardless ob huhtin’ d’ blood-plumbin’, Lub him? D'yo’ eber luff a human bein’ pull fo’ han‘fuls ob wool out'n yo" haid t’ wunst ‘n smile ‘n smole durin’ d° hull obs‘quies? I done it. He's mammy done it—'n a shiny spot .I’s got t'day shows dat Enoch done it. Gawdl'mitey bress ‘m! How 1 is a spinnin’ along. . boss; dat ain't a tear. I couldn’ cry nowdays ef 1 wuz socked full ob wet sponges—'deed I couldn’. Whad’s I gittin’ at? Slow yo" leadin’ mules ‘r yo'll git whip-sawed, twell I tole yo". One day d’ white-cappers kem a callin’. Squar’ Classon “d been missin’ chicks 'n gobblers raight ‘long, but when hit kem t" hawgs he up 'n got nifty ‘n k'mplained t' d’ nebburs en dey war a ‘vest'gation. Rawhides ain’ nuffin’, boss, when I's tellin’ d’ troof, en I's hope t’ be hide- cutted ef I wuz t' blame. D' hull troubl’ wuz disaway. Liddle Enoch— d' lawd gub ‘m pity!—liddle Enoch wuz out ‘n d’ cl’arin’ a playin’ in d’ san‘, en Oolie wuz a dryin’ out mah gum-boots whar' I'd crick-waded ‘m d’ night befo’. Barmbye in kem Enie a luggin’ d’ cur‘ousest-lookin’ iron ring yo" eber shot yo" eye onto. Hit wuz ‘bout d’ size ob yo’ wrist en had a kind ob split in d’ side laik hit wuz broke. “Whar yo" git dat?" I say “ Foun’ it out nigh d’ cohn-shocks,” says Eni “Tek hit ‘way frum d' chile ‘fore he swal done, bein’ dat Enie’s mouf sort’r took aftah he’s pah’s, en I did’n wan’ no ace‘den's t' happen. I put d’ ring up on d’ shelf ober d’ fiah-place en done fergot all ‘bout it, when —biff! clackerty-bang! comes a rap on d’ do’, en a kinder braze voice sings out, “ Open dat do’ ‘r we'll bust ‘m in!" I knowed dat voice. Hit wuz Squar’ Classon, en dat do’ didn’ tek long t’ onbosom hitself. “Whar's mah hawg?" he says—en’ boss, d’ gun he had in he’s han’ wuz mo'n a mile long. “T-swar’ b' d’ meetin'-house I ain’ seen no hawg,” I says, trem'lin’, “Secuah d’ nigs en I'll s'arch d’ house,” says d’ squar’; en in d’ shake ob a ‘possum’s tail me en Oolie en Enoch wuz in d’ toils. A BOSTON BURGLARY, D’ squar’ he ranshackled d’ hull cab'n, en barmbye he kem t' d’ shelf Mrs, Le. Hallo, Bill!" en picked off dat ring. Livin’ ralics! how he did swar’! Me. Lu Well LM be, eternally: jeewhisaled 17 ~ We'se got ‘im, boys,” he says. “Here's mah ole boah’s nose-ring Ma rea "he si ; Mr. Leatty—"I'm a lamb if I ain't got mixed up on these crooked whad I had made down t' d’ Culpeppah’s brack-smith shop lars’ week. streets an’ went an’ broke inter my own house !" : comicbooks.com