Judge — April 21, 1894 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE NEVER GOES TO SUCH PLACES. SS LJAVE you ever seen the prisoner at the bar?” said the lawyer to the witness. “Sir,” replied the latter with deep feeling, “I am @ strict temperance man.” 248 UNSUCCESSFUL CAREFULNESS. A DISCOURAGING EXPERIENCE. THE farmer quit work and leaned on the fence and said to the man with the note-book, “No, Philo Drake don't live round here—don’t live nowheres, fur he’s dead. He was born out to Cheatham Four Corners an’ lived hereabouts “til his wife was dead an’ his children all married off an’ he got to be about sixty-five year old, when all of a sudden he painted his whiskers an’ married the widder of a brakeman 't was killed down here to the junction. “The ‘ooman landed here with five children the day after her husband was killed, an’ in less ‘n a year Philo married her an’ went west to “grow up with the country,’ so he said. ‘Pears like when they got out to Deadwood the widder _ferisres concluded she'd go furder west with another JUDGE'S ILLUSTRATED ORNITHOLOGY. ae i} feller an’ left Philo in Deadwood with the A blue jay. young uns. 4 7 “ Wacal, Philo stayed aroun’ thare ‘til he got his cash an’ the young uns pretty well distributed Farmer CornstaLk —"' Say, mister, there aroun’ the place, an’ then he kem back. When he got here he looked as if he'd walked most of has been a bad nasty smelt in my Toom ever ine’ | the way, an’ I_guess he had. Said he'd been recommended to try the waters of some new springs thet hed been opened up here since he'd left, but I guess they didn’ do him no good. “ He got a job to stay aroun’ the hotel up to the springs, representin’ hisself as the oldest inhab- itant; an’ he let his whiskers go white an’ took to drinkin’ whisky an’ horse-radish an’ lyin’ about his age an’ what the waters hed done fur him, an’ every other mortal thing he opened his mouth about; but he didn’t live long. They found him dead in bed one mornin’ with a tintype of the widder an’ her two oldest boys on his buzzum— an’ the perprieter of the hotel hed it carved on his tombstun thet he was a hundred an’ three year old, which he warn’t A POPULIST. eoneee rs i by more ‘n about Wot yer readin’, Dewey?” iP aeccdin Fe ee rat et be Ane Ee owed thirty odd year” ; Oh, some blame nonsense "bout protectin’ steel rails. Why, tar ba ele pic abe irty odd year." we couldn’ carry ‘em off even if dey wasn’ bolted down. EMPHATICALLY CONTRADICTED. Joxts—"* Yes, parson, I have quit swearing entirely. [haven't sworn for Tue rarrot—" You're a d— liar.” over'a year now,” comicbooks.com