Judge — March 12, 1892 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE AT THE MINSTRELS. MSE, now dat de trubble is ober wid Chili does yer know dat de massage treatment sabed dat ere i 174 “Say, Mose, whar 1s Chili, anyhow?” “Why, Pete, it runs clear down de coast to de Horn.” “Prezackly, Mose; to de little end ob de Horn. Ya, ya!” “But say, Pete; you know dey said Harrison had on his gran’fader’s hat. Well, dat was an April-fool hat.” “Why so, Mose “Bekase when Chili kicked it she found a brick under it. Ya, ya!” “Ho, ho! All sing ‘She smole again dat sunny smile." ALT. WORDEN, SOME CONNECTICUT FARM- NOTES. NAMED my new calf to-day “ Mug- wump.” I was sorry to handicap him so, but the only way I could make him go ahead was to seize hold oj his tail and pull backward. Curious how even hens will imitate actresses. I notice when one hen sits, or “sets,” another becomes her “under- study” and loafs around ready to take the place of the prima biddy and keep the eggs warm when number one leaves the nest. Fox-hunting is getting too expensive for me. I want it abolished by law. I know I do not go fox-hunting myself. That's the rub, It is not expensive for, country ?” “No, Pete. de massage treatment?” “Dey kneads de muscles. Ya, ya!" “I see, an’ Chili needs de muscle.’ “What is dis about de nitrate- beds? Wort is de nitrate?” “Ten cents a night fer a bed on de Bowery. Gib us a hard one.” Wasn't it funny dat dey couldn't recognize de flag, but Blaine could make ‘em see de stars clear frum Washington? Ya, ya!” “All right. Mr, Wuetsto Knights ¢ Mr. E Mr. coterie) EL HETSTON! Whad does yer clo in OVERWHELMED. vho has just been elected to the Black low-down mean.” an?" roun’ heah in mah ole clo’s luff me fox-hunters. They get good appetites when yo’ knowed d’ prince ob Wales wuz gwine t’ be ‘nitiated.”” and perhaps a three-dollar skin once a week. But I have to hire my fences put up at ten shillings a rod. I notice that the most worthless scamps in the country are the most afraid to go down in a well to clean it out. It's mighty queer that we cannot induce all the chicken-thieves and AMBIGUOUS. Par Suorty—"* Will: yez lind me tin dollars, Mr. Murphy? T'm a little short thish marnin’?” «most friends in this neigh- loafers to get into some old well and then keep them there till they repent. It's hard times when an honest man has to clean his own well out. The chap who has the borhood is the young city fellow who has just bought a four-thousand-dollar farm for six thousand dollars. Three people have offered to work his land on shares— keeping both shares, of course. Eleven men have tried to sell him horses. The road in front of his house is full of cows on trial. Iam going to sell him a dog, and everybody is giving him ad- vice; and what he does not know about farming next , year will not be worth know- ing. FROM HIs POINT OF VIEW. Miss Sut (soho has been on a trip through the country) sad sight to see the bare limbs as you travel through the country. beri Mr. S: Yes; it is a wonder the poor things don’t take cold. Opera-bouffe and the bailet are becoming quite a nuisance.” A good many politicians and news- papers are advocating better roads; but now I notice no one proposes anything about shortening roads. I am two miles from the station and I want to be within half a mile. It would double the value of my farm and save time and horseshoes. Let the statesmen wrestle with this prob- blem. Let the roads be shortened. Hoisted my flag on Lincoln's birth- day, and I'll be confused if all the bump- kins did not think I was saluting St. Valentine and had got two days ahead. That's what discourages me in trying to be a statesman, So many farmers are like these Connecticut rocks—so hard nothing but hard cider makes any impres- sion, I am glad Iam more pervious to truth. Yours truly, WARD PAK, EVIDENCE, $4]'D KNOW this was an actors’ club simply by a glance at the bill-of- fare,” said Harlow. “How?” queried Henry Nervine, the famous comic tragedian, “You have ham in every style and no end of soups.” INFORMATION WANTED. Fat rarty—"" Say, boy, do my boots want cleaning?” comicbooks.com