Judge — March 2, 1895 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

HYPNOTISM AGAIN. ceny was four pounds o' bologna sassidge.” “ Name?” said the judge tersely. “Lawrence Hiweighs, yer honor. case of hypnotism, yer honor. been a slave ter dat influence more’n a year. do it or bust.’ 1am a victim of undue influence, yer honor. a bright object.” * Right, yer honor.” “That bright object was Sirius the dog-star, seen through an inverted quart bottle. Silence! The person who hypnotized you was named John—John Alco- hol. Silence! It is ten dollars or ten days.” give it up, yer honor.” What?” roared the judge. “T rought youse was givin’ us a conundrum,” said Lawrence with a smile. ALT, WORDEN. AN EYE TO BUSINESS. MISTAKEN IDENTITY. N° ONE would have called him a Hercules ; and not evena poet, in the most excruciating throes of lyrical epilepsy, would have typified him asan Apollo. Like Mr. Dickens's heroines, he was undersized. Indeed, to have removed the voluminous top-coat, the expansive collar, the enor- mous chrysanthemum, and a few other husks and superfoliz, would have been like stripping a candle of its wax or a comic opera of its ballet. But what there was of him was refined and lady-like, and what he lacked in avoirdupois and manliness was compensated for by his companion. She was what might be termed an exaggerated Venus. She was a heroic, rotund study in pink-and-white, with a voice like a Wagner symphony; while his (Freddy's) vocabulary was all executed upon the right-hand end of the key-board. He was escorting her about the bench-show with all the dignity of a diminutive tug towing a mammoth liner into port, and doing his utmost to entertain her. But she seemed strangely abstracted. observations failed to interest her, his wittiest mots sufficed not to stir her elephantine risibilities. Meanwhile her vast and limpid orbs swayed rest- lessly from one part of the pavilion to another, like cerulean search-lights. At length Freddy grew suspicious. His little heart sank with a sickening gurgle and his little brain began to swim as it had sometimes done when he had smoked too many cigarettes. “Can it be,” he mused, “ that she’s discovehed/ doncheh know ?”—— Siuapge Ss ARCENY from de person,” said the new policeman, as he lugged in the victim. “De person was de Dutchman on de corner, an’ de lar- This is a I hatter do it. 1 It fol- lers me ever'where an’ yells out, ‘Do it, Lawrence, Many an’ many a time I tried ter break away, but it follered me an’ I fell, like the beautiful s"— “Silence !* thundered the judge. “ Dare to repeat that line and I will have you sequestrated. Hypnotism first attacked the law in France. Slowly it creeps into’American courts. Lawrence, you were first overcome by looking steadily at INsToNE —"'I Vought I had gained your lofe, Repecca, but it seems I haf failed.” Renecca—"Ob, Apram! tole me how much you haf failed for, den maype I shange mein mindt.”” His profoundest AFTER-THOUGHT. Mr. FULL-Loap—"* Whash idiot I wash trent housh with so many steps (hic) front of it !" But at this point his reverie was broken in up- on by the baritone accents of his fair companion, which seemed to confirm his cruel suspicions. She said, Oh, dear! here.” ‘That was enough. Freddy's tallowy complexion waxed a shade more tallowy, his thin lips twitched painfully, while that widely-advertised attraction, the green-eyed monster, sprang up and performed a wild pas before the young man’s vision. He was just revolving the perplexing problem whether he should resort to the desperate alternatives of hara-kiri or homicide, or to simply run away to his ma, when he was suddenly startled by a paroxysmal spring on the part of his substantial companion, and the next in- stant he beheld her hovering, like a great warm, sun- ny cloud, over a weak-eyed spitz, with whiskers like a German baron, and uttering this delectable mon- ologue: “Oh, here is my angel, the pride of my heart, my own little Bertie!” Then Freddy felt himself withering within his garments, even as the kernel withereth within its shell. I thought sure Bertie would be MAROLD PAYNE, THAT VIS-A-VIS SOFA. Farmer OATCAKE— “Cousin Waldorf told me ter go inter ther parlor an’ make myself comf'table till he cum down, but blame me ef I kin seem ter manage it on this twisted-backed gol-darn sofy'I” comicbooks.com