Judge — 1891 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE'S ANNUAL. BOUQUET JACK. They say I got my name because somehow an extra jack Was mixed in some proceedings of the family euchre pack ; And since I'm lucky when I have a flower on my clothes, ‘The “* bouquet” spot was dealt because I always sport a rose. In summer, when the fragrant mint stands on the cherry i, Thang around the big hotels dissecting a cigar ; And when my luck is low and I'm negotiating loans, T hit the faro deck or else I buck the hazard bones. ‘At times I bank and watch the fakirs run against a snag When I have twirled the marble—that is, dropped the start- ing flag. While I hold up the wall, the ball goes quietly to bed, ‘And then I rake the chippies in or size up on the red. You often hear me call the odds within the betting ring, And cash the winning tickets which the lone insiders bring. Why do I ante every time I see a beggar’s face? Well, I recover on the queen or pile up on the ace. In ‘49, when I was just a kid at Blazing Star, I slung the drinks for Jackass Jim behind his silver bar. There wasn't one in all the camp who didn’t down his brakes When I swung looseand really tried to give a cuss the snakes, BOUND TO SHINE, One night a stranger blew in camp and walked about thetown Until he struck the “silver bar” and slumped his pizen down, And then, says he, a-eyeing me, “' My’boy I've got a game ‘That's wandered from its parentage an’ has noreg'lar name. “* This here is the Episcopal and this the Baptist camp ; Here's what we'll call the Methodist ; while here, without a lamp To guide his steps, a sinner stands. Now I'll bet you the rinks That though he blows into a camp, itain’t the camp you thinks."” T staked my shirt at last when I had dropped my gun and ust, For I'd bucked up against his deal until I'd gone and bust. But what does that fly stranger do, but hand me out his tools And show me how to work the game and rope my fellow mules, Without a cent and minus clothes I walked around until Tran against a beggar's child alongside Euchre hill ; ‘A bag 0° dust beside her lay while she, in slumber deep, Slept only as the children and the angels ever sleep. I swiped the dust, I sprung the game; I called the turns on mains Till Jackass Jim spoilt prairie grass by blowing out his brains, And that is why I never show a beggar's brace my back— Because a beggar dropped the tin that made me Bouquet Jack. DEWITT sTRRRY. Barnum’s HARLEQuin (who has been requested to remember himself at Lord Hoodood’s dinner, but for whom the excitement froved too much)—'' Here's ter th’ dukes an’ dukesesses ! IT RAISED HIS SPIRITS. Miss DePevster—“ Did you notice how brilliantly the organist/played the wedding march at Sallie’s wedding?” Miss BrewstEr—“ Yes; it seemed to me as if he put his whole soul into it. He must have been re- joiced at the size of his fee.” Miss DePeyster—‘“ That wasn't it ; he had secured a divorce that morning.” A REDEEMING QUALITY. Witp Westerner—“In your last paper you re- ferred to me as a horse-thief, a murderer, and a liar.” Epitor—“ Well, what was there wrong about that? Witp WesTERNER—“I don't see why you want to blast a man’s reputation with a statement like that. I may be, as you claim, a horse-thief and a murderer, but, thank heaven, sir, I am no liar?” FORCE OF HABIT. He—“I saw Claude M—- with his wife at the play last night, and he acted like she was his sweet- heart. Something new for him, ain’t it?” Sne—“ Well, I should think so, But, you see, she n—"' Vy nod?” Avra : i is his typewriter now, Dey vos vort’ a dollar a dozen in Nye Yorick.” comicbooks.com