Judge — 1891 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE'S ANNUAL. RIGHT ABOU? FACE. “Fo’ de lan’s saik! Mistah Preeders, am dis yo'self? An’ -— well, well, well! chile, how smoove you'se lookin’; an’ how’s d’ lehdy an’ d’ liddle chil’n, an’ dat big floutin’ gal o° yourn? “Loddy mitey! seems y'ars an’ y'ars sence "r seen yer; ‘deed it does. “Whar's yer been? “Whar's yer been, honey? “ Stan’ ober dar an luff me look et yer. “ Fat an’ hearty an’ shinin’ like koaknut ile same ez eber, and dat same ole kin'ly smile a glit’rin’ up yo teef when d’ lips pop. “'R says ter aunty yis’ day, says I, ‘Dat "Polinais Preeders gits hansomer en hansomer eb’ry tame 'r sees 'm'—git 'r way 'r say, en luff d’ sun shine on dem count’nance whad’s all’ys like bammygillud fer de pore ole man sae ter see! Wah-he-ho-ho?” and he gurgled off jean ee shai ‘: aioe ‘4 ‘isd “T wuz a lookin’ fer yo’, unk’l;" this from’ Mr. Preeders. leach Bice @ essen be wrest forget [or seany aya “Glad yo’ wuz, blessin’; glad yo’ wuz. 'T does d’ patr'arch’s heart good fer ter fink dat he’s cared fer b’ he’s fren’s. ‘Spec’ yo" wan’s ter gub me one 'r dem bill-boa’d tickers fo’ d’ base-ball poler groun’s, en I'll be more’n pleased uf y'll ‘clude aunty. She's pow’ful stuck on dat Keefer whad frows dem succular bawls.” “Dat ain’ jes’ it, unk’l. I wuz proud to fink whad yo’ mighd len’ me fohteen caints fer t’ git m’ laundry out’n d’ hocker.” The old man turned on his heel, stepped on the toe of an interfer- ing newsboy, and as he strode majestically away he groaned, “ Dese strangah’s whad’s allus a pesterin’ a man on d’ street orter be ‘rested en locked up tighter den Isr'el’s army! yas d’ ought, en I’se a speakin’ loud frum d’ heart!” DEPENDS ON THE GOODS. “Oh, dear,” sighed Vereker, as he laid down the paper, “how I wish I had been born in India.” “Why?” said Mrs, Vereker. “Because I should have been a Hindoo, and, in the nature of things, you would have been a Hindoo, too.” “Gh, you're sorry you didn’t marry a Hindoo, are you?” sn the lady. “Very well, so am I; and you may go off to In Halifax, for aught I care, and find you one, Hindoo, indeed she sniffed indignantly, “T didn’t mean that, my dear,” said Mr. Vereker, submissively. “TI want no wife but you. I wish you had happened to be a Hindoo lady, that’s all.” A SLIGHT CHANGE—2. FAtHER—"' Did you lick this boy of mine this morning?” ‘TEACHER (with angelic smile)—* I did, sir.” Fatuer—"* Well, I just came down to say I'm much obliged to you. You see, I have an affection of the spine which has weak- ened me so that Iam unable to give him the necessary chastise- ment when he needs it. Good-day “So that I might go and burn myself on your funeral pyre when you died? Not much, and don't you fool yourself. I've burned myself for you dur- ing your life, cooking your dinners and lighting your fires, but not after you die—no, siree. I've a plan worth two of that,” and Mrs, Vereker pursed up her lips and looked ‘successors and second hus- bands at him. “I didn’t mean that either, dear,” said poor Mr. V., meekly. “Well, can’t you tell me what you do mean?—that is, if you know yourself, which I very much doubt.” Without a word of retort, patient Mr. Vereker took up the paper he had just laid down and read from it as follows: “A single piece of linen or silk cloth, from five to six yards in length and a yard and a half wide, forms the whole dress of the women in India.” |. Here he lowered the paper and looked at his wife. | “That's just like your stinginess, Mr. Vereker,” said she, as soon as she got breath enough to an- swerhim. “You'd like to see me going round in a pocket handkerchief, I suppose, so you'd have more money for poker and things—but I wouldn't z eee = dress in one piece of goods like that for any man— HORNET TIME IN THE COUNTRY. unless,” she added reflectively, “the material were Voice FKOM UNDERNEATH THE BED—"‘ Oh, George, dear, have you killed the horrid thing yet?” camels’-hair.” comicbooks.com