Judge — June 1, 1895 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Mr. Borem—‘'I am afraid I can't go, after all. Sie—"* He's always playing me some nasty mean trick.” THE TATTERED FLAGS. 1 | SAW the soldiers march to-day Through eager crowds, and heard The olden war-time music play ‘Till every pulse was stirred And cheers went down the avenue As gallantly they came ; For every one knew some one there And joyed to shriek his name They cheered them well; yet like a flood Outrushed the glorious cry When, borne by gray-haired veterans, ‘The tattered flags went by. " Oh, what a rush of memories Went down the-shaken throng ! * And olden sorrows stirred again Where they had slumbered long ; And faithful hearts remembered still the sad yet shining day When flaunting in the stirring breeze, Those flags went down Broadway ; NO SLUGGING, NO KICKING. ‘THE CAPTAIN—"* Good-mornin’, Mr. Goodman, Would yer be umpire fer us ter-day 7” Mr. GoopmMan—"' Oh, I'm too old, boys.” ‘THE CAPTAIN—"* Dat's jest it. Yer so old an’ feeble dat de fellers ‘ud be ashamed ter slug yer, an’ dere wouldn't be no kickin’.” REGARDLESS OF EXPENSE. A NUMBER of years ago, during a revival of religion 1m a rural dis- trict, an old-fashioned Methodist exhorter led the meetings, and for originality and excitability hardly had his match. On one occasion he astonished the large gathering of worshipers by saying in his long and loud exhortation, “O Lord, back up what I am asking for and come right down through the roof. Iam a car- peniter and will nail on the shingles again.” 1. p. x. TWO WAYS OF LOOKING AT IT. Outertown (enthusiastically)— Citily, old man, you ought to move out to Lonelywood. Its peace- fulness and quiet would make you live twice as long as you will Citily —" But if 1 were living out there 1 HAVANA FILLED." shouldn't care to live twice as long.” ‘That small brother of yours has hid my hat.” And sobbing women followed on And not a cheek was dry, As, newly consecrate to war, The flags went proudly by. m, But for those flags the flags to-day Had not so brave an air, And newer stars ne'er come from heaven To shine in glory there. Not yet, oh, flags, your mission ends, While hearts there are to swell With pride and love at all the tale Your tatters mutely tell. Oh, glorious sight, each year to stir Our souls to visions high ! Cheer on, oh, friends! although through tears ‘The tattered flags go by FLORENCE B. PRATT, INVESTING, SMALL Boy—"' Have yer got any solid-gold weddin'= rings wot only costs five cents?” comicbooks.com