Judge — October 6, 1894 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

THE AWAKENING. Bow CuerKer (tho, with his friend, has failed of recognition) —"1 thought we knew Miss van de Rocks.” ‘Tom AppemM—"'So did I, We must have dreamed about our vacations,” WHIP-POOR-WILL! WILP-POOR-WILL ! whip-poor.will! As my gray head bends to listen all my pulses thrill With the old-time recollection that will rise up sti As I hear the stern bird-verdict, ‘* Whip- poor-will !” Whip. poor-will | whip-poor-will ! Well can I remember climbing up the hill Winding past the meadow, leading by the mill, Up to father's cottage — ‘* Whip - poor - will!” Whip-poor-will ! whip-poor-will ! After playing “‘ hookey * with his comrade Bil, When the orchard-apples all had failed to ill Home they slowly wandered —" Whip- poor-will !" Whip-poor-wili | whip-poor-will Though he’s tired end footsore; though he's nearly ill From his youthful folly, add the bitter Pi In his father's wood-shed—"* Whip-poor- will" ‘ALICE CRARY. PERILS OF OCEAN TRAVEL. ee N O, PAUL; we won't go to Paris or London or Vienna or St. Petersburg, or any of those foreign places. much from sea-sickness. " Make up your mind to that. I suffer too “But it lasts only a few days, you know,” pleaded Paul. ESS] a “Altogether too long..1_as- sure you. No wife can tell what mischief may be done in a few days if she is sick down in the cabin and leaves her husband to promenade with strange women on deck.” IN GREAT DOUBT. THE SLEEVED LEGS. Last year's and this year’s position of the sleeve. SPORTING BLOOD OVER REASON, OLD Mose (appeatingh)—" I's dun gambled away all de money I won on de hoss-race, squiah, wid de axcepshun ob one dollah, As toe-day am de day I's toe be mahried I wants toe know ef yo'll mahry me an’ mah gal fo’ dat.” POKTINGTON—"* Well, Mose, you've allers ben a likely Il marry yer fer nuthin’; but yer got ter stop gamblin’— itl'ruin yer, Durn it! it'll ruin any man"— OLD Mose (suddents)—"" I'll shake yo’ de bones toe see who pays fo" de license.”* < Squire SPoRTINGTON (as suddenly)—"* I'll go yer!" Lady (to battered little street - urchin) —" What's your name, little boy?” Urchin—"1 don’ know. I'm jist after havin’ a scrap wid Mickey Mulvey.” THE THIEF AND RECEIVER. comicbooks.com