Judge — 1891 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

man proceeded to transfer some of the art depicted on his body to mine; the whole band, the while, yelling like demons. My hair whitened rapidly just then. At length I broke from my tormentors and gained the door—and it was when I found it fastened that the last remain- ing dark hairs of my head as- sumed their silvery hue. The grewsome band was close be- hind me; with the energy of despair I beat against theclosed door, shouting for assistance like a madman. Oh, joy! the door opens. The frantic crew of freaks pause in their mad career; I stagger out into the open air, but my feelings arc too far over- wrought; the reaction is too much, and I sink fainting into the arms of a policeman. When I regained conscious- ness I lay in the alcoholic ward of Bellevue Hospital, just re- covering, the doctor told me, from a severe attack of deliri- um tremens, Delirium tremens, forsooth! This is their boast- ed medical science. The hor- rors of that night had crazed my brain; the freaks had wrecked my reason, and the doctor called it alcohol! But out of evil good may come! Ihave been offered a position as a freak—a man whose hair turned white in a single night. I shall enter the glorious fraternity! I shall, in my turn, terrify any poor wretch who finds himself in the position I was in. And if anyone twits me in the future JUDGE'S ANNUAL. Mr, Horrisox—"'Can't I get you something from the supper-room to go with the wine?” 1aus (from Cincinnati, who is going through the eastern refinement process)—* Thanks, awfully! I'd ever so much like a slice of coffee-cake and a pig's understanding.” IN A BOSTON DRAWING-ROOM. 3 AS HE COULD, Mrs, Socrack (warningly}—"* You mustn't darnce that way, Ichabod. 'T ain’t ettyketty,”” it? Well, my pardner’s been talkin’ ‘bout pictur’s an’ theaytres an’ paytrackballs, an’ other things I don't understan’, an’ now, b'gosh ! I’m goin’ t’ show her thet I know someth'n m'self !”” M OGRACK—""'T ain't, 35 for having the regulation num- ber of limbs, I can twit him back with his natural hair, for (whis- per it gently!) mine is glued on—but I am as good a freak as the most of them all the same! “AN ILL WIND.” ETC. A French officer of high rank in the last war had his leg shot away by a cannon-ball. While he was being cared for, his valet wept bitterly. “Don’t cry, my good fellow,” said the officer with grim humor; “you've had all the luck to-day, for you'll never hereafter have to shine more than one boot.” IT WOULD BE A CHANGE. “Oh, doctor, I don’t know what to do with poor William. He's working himself into an early grave. Can’t you suggest something to prevent him going down hill so rapidly?” “He mighttry the legislature, madam. There the decline is only gradual.” A SAFE DECEPTION. Mrs. Brown—‘I'm afraid Johnnie won't eat this worm candy if I tell him what it is, and if I give it to him without telling, he'll be apt to be sus- picious.”” Brown—“ Hide it away in the corner of the pantry.” Gratitude flows easily for things received. It is harder to give thanks for those withheld. comicbooks.com