Judge, 1893-01-14 · page 7 of 18
Judge — January 14, 1893 — page 7: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Judge, 1893-01-14. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
HERE are the tyrant and the lord ‘That harried men in flesh and bone ; Vhat led them forth, a hostile horde, With clashing shields and trumpets blown? Where is the king of high renown Who emptied Babylon's water-ways And drove Belshazzar from his throne? Where are the kings of ancient days? Where is the king, as scribes record, Who, conquering all countries known, Wept that his devastating sword Could waste no regions not his own? ‘And where are they in centuries flown, ‘The kings Chaldean, whose earnest gaze Watched stars that on their graves have shone? Where are the kings of ancient days? Envoy. Princes, the seed of death is sown ‘That shall destroy your insolent race, And naught shall tell save crumbling stone Where are the kings of ancient days. ALURRT ROLAND MAVEN. AN ACCIDENT TO THE BAND. oe W HAT'S the trouble, Gabriel?” said St. Peter.“ Why are you groan- ing?" “I forgot to take off my halo when I went to bed last night,” said Gabriel, ‘and it burned my head.” A MODERN ROMANCE. Mry Heath said in some respects you reminded him of the . 1. Cat—" Hello! who is that tramp cat?— —You've got ‘no business in this house, — aa Af *, — Ger out of here !—— ladies for whom knights used to contend.” Amy—"Oh, he only meant to flatter me.’ Fanny— No}; he said you really did have a middle-aged look.” OLD SOAK. THESE frosty nights it is no crime To have a rambling gait on; For winter is the proper time, He thinks, to have a skate on, WHAT THEY WOULD LIKE TO HEAR. Gummey—"Do you know what it is the Irish home-rulers would like to hear the English say?” Glanders—"1 don’t know that I do.” Gummey—"They would like them to say, ‘Erin brothers, go in peace.’ en Where the emperors who when Kome roared Over the gladiator o’erthrown Turned up their thumbs with a laughing word And smiled to hear his dying groan? Where is the man whose fame alone Made monarchs, listening to his praise, Blanch at the name Napoleon? Where are the kings of ancient days? A USEFUL ARTICLE, Aunt Ciemmy—" Stars a-mitey, Enoch! ain't dat wonnerful? Dis yer cyard tells all "bout whad d’ days ob d’ week is. F’r instunce, yo’ knows dat t'-day am Wensd’y, an’ yo’ looks right up ter d° top an’ dar, suah ‘nough, hit says * Wednesday’ plain ’s d’ nose om yo! face.” ——Well, I'll swear! it's cotton and I've swal- lowed d of it." THE COTTON CAT. Sse tennis comicbooks.com