Judge — November 2, 1895 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

Asc FOOLHARDINESS. CLARENCR—"* Willie, deah boy, advise me. I'm fwightfully flurwied, I'm about to’ pwopose to Miss Stwongmind. D'ye think, now, there’s any ah that "——- Waittir (interruptingX—" Dangah! You weckless cweature ! Why, there ain't one chawnce in a million faw you to get away without being accepted."* : LONG MAY THEY WAVE! SS PJAVE the woman-suffragists united on a party em- blem for their ticket?” “Yes; they have decided to hoist to the top of the column a pair of bloomers.” HIS NATURAL STATE, S6\A/HAT makes your husband so sober to-night?” said Mrs. Kilduff, who was trying to make her- self agreeable, to Mrs. Cumso. “My husband, madam,” replied Mrs. Cumso severely, “doesn’t drink.” ACCOUNTING FOR THE UNCEREMONIOUS RINGING DOWN OF THE CURTAIN. PRoresson FAVKES (the renowned ventriloe yuist}—" Thanks, ladies and gentlemen, for your kind applause of my celebrated boy-in-the-trank mitation, ‘To prove my trunk has no false bot- tom, ete., I will bring it to full front view ""— SUCH IS FAME, Eruen (aged six, as the Princeton foot-ball team comes on to the field) —"* Mercy, mamma! I should fink zose ladies would be perfec'ly ‘shamed to come out wiv their hair all down an’ dirty bloomers on.”* Zo IN TRAINING, Wire—"' | wonder who that saintly-looking man is who is in the front pew and is so fervent in the responses? If ever I saw love, charity, faith, hope and self-abnegation in a human coun- tenance I see them in his.” Huspanp—"' That is Polite-captain Graball. His case comes up before the commissioners AFTER THE CAMPHOR- BALL. AFTER the camphor-ball We walk on the avenue, And people sniff at the balmoral ‘That came from Kerry Kew. Oh, why do the earthly moths corrupt ‘And thieves break through and steal ? Else never had these on camphor supped, ‘And our friends have set the seal Of dire contempt as we stroll the mall, After the camphor-ball. After the camphor-ball ! Alas and alack the year When I stored my hat and my winter coat With that dire and grewsome sphere ! ‘This is the thankless note ‘That falls upon my ear— “Isn't it strange that you so dote On a scent that smells so queer? Are you really going to make a call ‘And take that camphor-ball ?* After the camphor-ball And these kind remarks fall due T hasten homeward not so tall ‘Some peace of mind to woo. Oh, let the heathen rage "And the nations war in vain ; But my woeful lot on history's page . ‘The student may ascertain, Yet I know I'll air again next fall ‘That same old camphor-ball. MARY C. FRANCIS. Bouwy FAvKes (in a hoarse whisper)—"' Skip de coop. dad ' De blame trap won't work.” . THE pleasantest of all fellows is the one who foots the bill.