Judge, 1893-06-10 · page 10 of 16
Judge — June 10, 1893 — page 10: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Judge, 1893-06-10. 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.
IT DIDN'T PLAY. SINCE THE FAIR OPENED. Ovricer (as he detects an anxious-looking countryman peeping into the Erastus—'* Whar yo" git dat nobby smokestack ?" orifice of a street letter box}—"* Move along, now !" 5 ef Lycurcus—** Dat kem from Shekarger. ee, deir heads don't fit Unc Jerit—"' Not'll I git my five cents back, ef I knows it! T dropped itin - deir hats enny mo’, so dey have to t'row dem away.” that air slot ten minnits ago, an’ not a chune has come out o' the pesky thing yit. THE USUAL MISTAKE. HEREDITY. Mistress —* Who rang the bell then, Katie?” Mrs, Blueblood (to landlady) —"* Don't give my Willie any shad, Mrs. Katie—"A boy, mum, lookin’ fur the wrong number.” Prunes. All our family are so easily choked to death.” CAUSE FOR JOY. SOY HAT! You haven't Ww heard of our masonic lodge? Why, sir, it’s celebrated from one end of the country to the other.” “Ah, I see. Your lodge, then, has among its members the oldest mason?” “No, sir; it's celebrated as being the only lodge in the country that hasn't the oldest mason.” REVENGE. Stimson —" What, Willie! you haven't been fighting with Bobbie Bingo, have you ? It was only yesterday that we were over there to dinner.” Willie—" That's the trouble. He tried to lick me because 1 accepted the second piece of pie his mother offered me.” CHINOSOPHY. *6P)0 YOU believe you can judge character by the hand?" “Of course 1 do. If a girl squeezes my hand I know she's ‘This lamp smokes, doesn’t it, Bridget 7" flirty.” “Shure, mum, Oi don't know whither it shmokes or it dhrinks, but Oi know it goes out nights.” ER VICES. A VATICAN EDICT NEEDED. MULuNs —"' Kin yez pray, Josey?" Byrnes —"* Divil th’ wurrad, Jamesey !" MULLINS —" Nor me aither, but here goes fer a thry. May his holiness, th’ pope, git off a bull, purty suddin !” comicbooks.com