Judge — November 11, 1893 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

Last year he was a millionaire, But now he has gone back { To just plain ‘* rich" because his wife Would have that sealskin sacque. SMOTHERING A GREAT IDEA. R. MARROWFAT had been reading something about a new system of reform-schools, when an idea suddenly struck him, and glancing across the table at his wife he observed, “My dear. if we ever should have a boy "— “Zedekial!" exclaimed Mrs. Marrowfat, interrupting him, ‘isn’t there a ill before congress forbidding anybody to speculate in * futures And, somehow or other, that seemed to turn Mr. Marrowfat down. DENIED ON AUTHORITY. Miss Joknson—" Cic'ly, Mistah Spriggans said yes'day dat yo’ were in de sere an’ yaller leaf Miss Sprague —" Dat’s a pos'tive untroof, Miss Jobnsing. I'se in de sere, but eb’rybody knows dat I ain't yaller.” A CHARGE TO KEEP. Mrs, Frixiz—"‘Hab yo’ got dem red pullets in yo’ buzzum dat 1 wanted ? Mr. Frixtt (groaning) —"* Nopey, but I done got some lead pellets in de buzzum ob mah pants I'se didn’ want, Didn’ yo” heah de gun boom ?” PESSIMISMS GOSSIP is the sugar of old women’s tea. All sour grapes are not out of reach. Vice is a sponge which sucks in honor and gives out tears. ‘The man who fears being taken at his true value is always on the alert for slights. Humility is not necessarily a virtue. The violet would smell just as sweet ona tree. A brigadier-general in petticoats and an old maid in pants are two things to be avoided. OUTSHON Isapore—"* Led me loog at ‘em, Repecea—dey vas so peautiful shinin’ undt prighd. The tears we shed for others are mellowed by inward congratulation; those shed for ourselves are brine. —"* Vou dinks mine eyes vas so peautiful, Ieea- The old man who has forgotten that he ever was a boy is but a living tomb- ? stone to his buried youth. je Weoccen ee Hem mend ceesriogs tei yon feriyour A broken pitcher at a fountain may be touchingly symbolical, but it is not so pirthday, Repecea, suggestive as a broken whisky-bottle in an alley. any at, scorT. NOT COCKSURE. SS] T'S easier to fall off a camel than it is for a sow’s ear to go through the eye of a needle,” wrote the cattle-market reporter, at a point in his report where he thought something like that would lighten it up. “TL don't think you've got this quotation quite correct,” remarked the current-items man, in the absence of the editor. “It doesn’t sound natural.” “Maybe that’s so,” modestly chimed in the cattle connoisseur. “1 haven't read any history since I was a very young man.” MR. MORBID, WISH I were a coroner, For one of my delights W =!d be like him to gaze upon Such loveiy horrid sights. EXTRAVAGANCE. He—") this Sun- day extravagance has got to stop.” SI Sunday extrava- gance He—Ves. Here Lam NOT THAT BLUE. paying eighty dollars a year Miss HaNks—" Who is that man with the empty sleeve you just spoke for a pew for you when there's A i © CLestmext—" Captain Ketchum, m winning a victory for a church in Sixteth street gue (GbEMMENT "Captain Ketchum, He lost an a ga victory “A BICYCLE MEET.” where the pews are free.” Miss Hanks—“' Introduce me ; I have a brother at Yale.” comicbooks.com