Judge — February 28, 1891 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

A BARD'S LAMENT. As any bard not specially inspired ; But now of rhyme and rhythm I am tired, ‘And in dull prose my aspirations dwell. What though great fancies still within me swell, And burning thoughts are yet within me fired; Still has that deep ambition all expired My best ideas in poesy to tell. I'm thus indiff'rent to the world’s applause— A-sudden reft of glory, tempest-tossed, Uncomforted, disconsolate, undone, Not of mine own volition, but because My rhyming dictionary I have lost And I'm too poor to buy another one. RATHANC M. LRvY, OUR BUSY PUBLIC MEN. Stranger —"Can 1 see Mr. Hawkins?" Clerk —Sorry, sit; but Mr. Hawkins is being interviewed by a reporter for the Daily Screamer about the number of cigars he smokes every day.” Stranger —" Ah, indeed! 1 see it is nowy ten o'clock. Do you suppose that I could secure an audience with Mr. Hawkins at eleven ?” Clerk—"No, sir. Mr. Hawkins has an engagement at eleven with a reporter for the Goose Egg, who wants to get some points about how he earned his first hundred dollars.” ‘Stranger —" How about twelve 2” Clerk—" At twelve, sir, Mr. Hawkins is to relate his experience a few years ago in Australia to a reporter for the Buzzard.” Stranger —"1 suppose Mr. Hawkins ‘goes out to lunch about one o'clock?” Clerk—" Yes, sir; from one till three.” Stranger —" Might I venture to call at three o'clock >" Clerk—" Well, you see at that time Mr. Hawkins expects to recall some anecdotes about society people for the benefit of the so- ciety editor of the Sunday Bazoo.” Stranger —" How about four o'clock?” Clerk —* At four o'clock, sir, Mr. Hawkins. starts for home.” Stranger —"Can I see Mr. Hawkins at any time during the coming month?” Clerk—"1 will put you down for next Thursday at three o'clock, By the way, may I inquire your business?” Stranger —"1 am a reporter for the Semi- Weekly Howler, and 1 want to interview Mr. Hawkins on ‘How a public man likes to be interviewed.’ "* MY JACQUEMINOT. MY NAME is Jack and hers is Rosy— The sweetest blossom that can blow; T atk her what's my favorite posy, She says, ‘The kind that Jack-may-know.” (going down) — ‘It’s woorkin’ on th’ aisy job wid me helper down wid th’ critters that wuz in that railroad wre'l AT THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM. JostaH—“' Look thar, Maria! that mus’ be th’ figger of one o° them poor HELEN. of Troy,” the ancient passion poets called the jade, But if of those hot times Stern history could ope her jaws and talk, T'll bet three dollars to a chunk of ‘ice She'd give it to us straight ‘That when King Menelaus woke that fateful morn And found his wife's surcingle and her sandals gone, And learned that she had packed her duds (What few she used) And skipped the town with Paris, He threw the windows up with bang and crash, And out upon her guilty trail, Which even yet was lathering the sun-kissed sea, Yelled Helen Blazes!” kD, MOTT. MUST HAVE HAD WINGS. Cubbage—"You ought to have seen the eggs flying when Chinner began his lecture.” Rubbage—" Were they as ripe as that?” Fippsey (the unemployed newsboy) —"* Here's one on Irish !” Mr. Hatter (from Canajoharie)~-"'1 tell yeou. "Mandy, ' they go ter puttin’ up them build- in's much higher they'll be a” Tontw (coming up)—"Th' sassenach thot shut thot cover fights Murty Tobin, an’ fights him immajeitly.” comicbooks.com