Judge — 1891 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE'S 'TIS TIME TO RISE. WHEN ats forsake the backyard fence. And drowsy maid in darkness dense Doth scratch a match to view the clock; When milkman, taking in the block Through various gates, doth briskly clink To fill the cans; with him we think We ought to rise. When dimly white the window gleams, And most familiar object seins Unlike itself; when faint and far We hearken the first down-town car; When }ost we hate the thought of This. this, alas! we feel this is ‘The time to rise. When sunlight reddens on the floor, And carrier swift at basement door ‘The morning paper gayly flings; When gently stir the breakfast things; When we to spring from slumber vow And—fall asleep, we Anow that now "Tis time to rise. (Continued from page 58.) so he wrapped it nicely in tissue paper, and I placed it therein, and went on my way to Jamborino’'s, soothed in mind as to the result. It was late when I entered. A shout greeted my arrival. “He has broken away from the apronstrings!" ‘‘ Three cheers and a tiger for the hero!” The fun grew fast and furious. Thrice I started for home, but was prevented by mine host from making my adieu. “If [left thus early,” he said, “all would follow suit.” last I got away. ‘As I was ascending my own steps, the neighboring clock chimed three. I fumbled in my pockets for my latch key, but it was not forthcoming. Alas! i vas compelled to ring—once— twice—thrice—then I heard a light step. I drew the pink hat from my pocket. In sundry falls from Jamborino’s to my own door, I had flattened it like a pancake; but I had no time to re- medy it. Mrs. Blower stood in the open doorway confronting me. I handed the bonnet to her, and stammered: “ Take it, my dear; it’s a love of adove of a duck of a bonnet—a real, live bonnet If you could have seen the look she gave me, JupGE, you wouldn't be Blower; no, not for my little annuity, minus the incumbrances. Speak of “ca- lamities” that befalla man. Mine is that pink bonnet. MADELINE §, BRIDGES. ALF so lauslitt ean. AN UNFORTUNATE ANNUAL. At + Flt! TF eit THE OUTCOME OF THE SUIT. “* There isn't much left of you, my friend,” Not a great deal. I sued Mullin the other day.” “Get anything 2” * Not in court, I met him after the session, though, and secured Bryexton Witcners- BRYERTO! Witcners heavy damages. Will you believe me, sir, Mrs. Blower—who has never at- tempted to restore it to its pristine beauty, or put it on herhead —has hung it in the flattened shape she received it from me on one of the stag horns that adorn the buffet in our dining room. On the tissue paper is written: “A trophy of Blower’s last stag party.” Last indeed! We shall see what we shall see, O Jupce! COMBINATION OF CIRCUMSTANCES, HEADQUARTERS Coldwater Temperance Society. RESOLUTIONS. ‘Wabercas: Two reputable and truth-loving sisters of this Societ have deposed and sworn that wit their own eyes they beheld the Reverend Doctor Howler, a once ome member of thiatoclety, from out a rum-shop; a ‘Wibereas: This society ismuch shocked and mortified at such ac- tions by one of its leading mem- bers, it is ‘Reso course in any manner whatever vith the abo Doctor jowler, Resolved: i Society 6 comicbooks.com