Judge — May 27, 1893 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE THE ACTOR-PUGILISTS. + ¢VVHAT is Mr. Torbett’s next move to be?” was asked of the pugil- ist's backer. 7 _ “He's going to challenge Edwin * Booth to play Hamlet.” TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD. HEED a very pious lass, Who fainted when he swore, Alas! She was so awful orthodox 723.\.- He found she wouldn't darn his socks. t a GRADES OF QUIETNESS. Lummix—*Isn't a cemietery a quiet “i> spot?" b, Shimgullet —"Yes; but Egyptian cemeteries are quieter than those in this “ How can that be?” ‘ Skimg ullet— Because in Egypt A FAIR OF GATERS. mummies the word.” GOOD RESULTS. S¢D)O YOU think that serftling bibles to the heathen is productive of good results?” “Most assuredly. Our publishing house makes a clean profit of thirty-seven cents on every bible. TRAGEDY. ITE pat his shict-studs in his shirt And thought them right, no doubt, Until her husband raised the roof— She'd got them inside out. HER IDEA OF GREATNESS. Mrs. Waldo—'So your son is an artist?” Mrs. Wabash—" 1 should say he was, Why, he can draw your portrait while you note o” mine was discounted at de Continental bank.” wait.” Mr. SutLy—"* Certainly ; help yourself." CULLY (pretending to be talking)—" Hello— hetio—Continental! Ha—yes—uh—hu—all righty .o,hm# thousa Discount—what—yes—six—yes—ob, yes—all right, }} wouldn't a had that note go wrong fer any- —TI'm a thousand times obliged to ir. Thank you, sir. thing. — NO MORE COLD BONES FOR HIM. Curty—"* Say, mister, kin T use yer telephome fer a minnit?” I wants ter see if dat A DISCOVERY. Mr. Lovett (taking a sub ic Bowery- bay:beach, by hookey !” MITIGATION. s¢How. could Janette marry that old man? The idea of being tied up to him for life!” “You™ must remember it’s only for-Azs life.” AT THE BOTTOM OF IT. Glara—" Aren't you lac- ing very tightly of late? Mr. Spooner spoke of it the other night.” Maude—" He is the one who put me up to it.” Clara—" How so?” Maude—" Ve has such a short arm.” —I tell you, dat was a neat job, Dey say dese yer rents fer a hundred dollars a year in New York, No more cold bones fer me—no, indeed. comicbooks.com