Judge — June 25, 1892 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

KILLen (coming down two stories)—" It serves yez right, yee Connemara fool! Phwhy didn’t yez git ont o' th’ way phin yez seen me comin’ ?" TWO PARAGRAPHS. From the Daily Bugle, January 14, 1892. O R esteemed townsman, Mr. Alfred Boombleburger, who was active JuD6E HONEST. *sTjyo YOU ed of the tramp. “Sometimes, mum. “At what?” “The growl er, mum.” HIS QUEST. First Chicago man—“Who are you looking for?” Second Chi- cago man “You hain't seen anything of my wi SLANGY. Epcaxpo—"I may say, Ethelinda, that we seem to be onto his knobs.” "s husband, have you?" AT COMMENCEMENT. PROUDLY the platform's dress is planned ; ‘Thronged is the hall on every hand Where meet, as rolls the year around, ‘These visitors to classic ground. Ob, sweet girl-faces ranged a-row, In draperies pure and white as snow, From June’s fresh fields there comes to-day Nowhere a lovelier bouquet ! Here youth's fond hopes and fancies meet ; ‘Transfigured seems each aisle and seat. How soon the world’s wide-open door Swings back, while life spreads out Beauty and culture year by year Their courts of Faéry gather here. Amidst sweet forms in silk and lace What strange new glory lights each face! Within the chapel's cloistered walls A tender benediction falls, Where with festoons and flowery rout Dryads have decked the place about. Some lips speak low, some eyes are wet, And tokens fall of fond regret, In spite of all hope’s sirens say, For school-girl friendships closed to- in the last Republican campaign, goes to Washington to-night in the hope of securing the appointment of inspector of swamps in this vicinity. Alfred is backed ‘by all the leading Republicans here and he certainly ought to get the place. From the Daily Bugie, January 16, 1892. Alf. Boombleburger got back from Washington last night. before. day. White-ribboned essays play their part With music, but what memories start Up from life’s far-off, backward page To us who sit below the stage! JOEL BRENTON, HE HAS A CINCH. ss] WANT my fire insur- ance at one- tenth the regular rate," said an applicant for a policy. “Why is that?" asked the secretary of the insurance com- pany. “I'm a pro- fessional rain- compeller.” NOT FOR JOE. A WRUNG-OUT THREAT, Book-agent— McSutty (in chancery)—"' D' yez know phfwhat Oi'll do av yez ai hate dhrops thot impelmint?” ee Heres Mrs. M (hotly) —"* Oi don't; nayther do Oi care," sir, a beautifully me! Oj'll change me loife.'surance policy t° illustrated book ‘ of architectural f designs, which I will sell for one dollar.” rage man—“No, you don't. I know you architect fellows. In a month's time you'll be saying the cost of the book exceeded the estimates, and you'll want five dollars more.”” HER CORROBORATION. ' dead loads of fun, didn’t we?” asked Miss Bleecker. “replied Miss Emerson, “we had lifeless burdens of hilarity.” A TARDY ADMONITION. . TkaTe MAMMA—" Why doan' yo" turn up yo" britches, boy? ** WE it Want t’ spile yo" bes’ pa'r dra ay ‘em in de mu comicbooks.com