Judge — 1891 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

FUNNY TRUE ARTIST. Mutarro customer—"'See heah, boy! you ain't got dem shoes half black enough, What's de matter wif you?” Boora.ack—"* Well, yer see, boss, I like to have everything in keepin’, and if I’ make dese shoes any blacker, it ‘Il make yer complexion look seedy.” Mr. Vereker is not a Wiggins, by any | means, but he has a very well-defined idea of the style of weather that suits him, “Ah,” he often observes, “before I was married I didn’t care what the weather was; but now anything except very temperate weather tries me painfully.” “How so?” asked a friend. ‘How has matrimony unfitted you for the ‘inclemency of the seasons?” “Well,” replied Vereker, “when a man is a householder he must chip the ice off his front-door step with a hatchet, and shovel the snow off the sidewalk in winter. If he is a married man, he must get up and start the fire for his wife in the morning.” “Yes, but in summer, Mr. Vereker——" “In summer! oh then, well, darn it all! he has to take his family to the seaside.” FELINE AMENITIES. “* Mrs, Van Saurkraut is going to have her J.” picture painted. Bettx—" Indeed? What in, pray?” CLAra—'* Why, oil, of course.” Brtte—''I fancy it would be much more like her if it was done in vinegar.” SO ENGLISH, YOU KNOW. “Hello, De Masher! where have you kept your- self all this time? I haven't seen you at the Hoffman | for an age!" De Masner (lafiguidly)—" | have myself —er —anywhere. In fact . | know—I don't keep myself, I-er—live with the governor | not—e Lady's muff: The soft young man. An Associated-Press telegraph operator out West got married the other day, and aweek after forgot to take home a new bonnet he had promised his wife. Next morning the country was startled by a despatch announcing a “terrible cyclone which crossed over the State, desolating the country for miles around.” A careful father was about entering his library the other day, when he heard some one inside indulging in shocking pro- fanity. He listened, and discovered that the culprit was his fourteen-year-old son. “Yl skin him!" tone, seizing a small cane and bursting into the library. His anger quickly van- ished, however, when he discovered his mistake. His son was simply reading aloud one of Bret Harte’s dialect poems. Mupvittr, Mup County, Mun, Sept. 28th, ‘90. Dr. Keamrs—Dear Sir: My wife, who was a sufferer for some time with a severe pain in the right | hand corner of her left ear, persuaded me to buy her | two bottles of your Magic Stinkerline. Since using it she has ceased to complain. Yours very truly, J. WASIINGTON Bossem Supt. Mudville water works. he hissed, in an under- | THINGS FROM JUDGE. THOUGHTFUL. Panty witt Lanterx—"T wouldn't go into the house just now, if I wuz you. You see, we has silenced the missis, and the boys is gaggin’ the cook, an’ you might get yerself into trouble, Just set down on that top step a bit an’ cool off.” How not to do it: Don’t. It doesn’t take a Northern invalid very long to get well in Florida, When the first week’s hotel bill is presented, he gen- erally says: “I guess I am well enough to start for home this afternoon.” The father of a family, on inquiry into the antecedents of a candidate for the hand of his daughter, desired to know if the young man’s family was an elevated one. “Very much so—at times,” was the prompt and ingenuous answer. When a man visits your house and ex- presses fanatical views on the temperance question in return for your proffered hospi- tality, put your demijohn on the top shelf and hide the step-ladder WANTED. An immediate opening for a talented young man who is at present somewhat embarrassed. comicbooks.com