Judge — November 16, 1895 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

DEADGULCH ENLIGHTENED. M*- BRONCO PETE, a leading citizen of the classic town of Deadgulch, had in some manner got hold of a pa- tent-medicine circular, and upon occasion would take advantage of the profound fund of medical lore with which he had crammed himself therefrom to overawe his nightly associates at the Hail Colum- bia saloon with his wisdom. One night, as Pete sat nonchalantly whistling a gospel hymn and kicking time with his spurs upon a box of dynamite cartridges outside the door of the Hail Columbia, a stranger on a bronco arrived from Slaughterhouse Park, a few miles up the gulch, and Pete immediately laid for an opening on the stranger, should he perchance commit himself upon any phys- iological standpoints. He had not long to wait. The stran- ger chanced to remark that Faro Dan of Bloody Run had lost his nerve and gone to stacking hay instead of stacking cards. “Excuse me, stranger,” interrupted Pete with a somewhat blasé air; “* but wot did you say ‘bout Faro Dan?” THE RIVAL PAWNBROKERS. Simpson (to Cohen)—"* Dot Hockstein’s face is his fortune. Ie don’d haf to advertise his peesniss,” Park an’ Bloody Run, so ye're quite excusable fer not under- standin’ me question.” The festivities commenced without further parley. ‘The stranger, being about two seconds slower with his gun than the intellectual giant of Deadgulch, is doubtless ignorant to this day as to just what Pete was trying to get at. “Well, boys,” said Pete, as he surveyed the body with a superior air while lighting his pipe, ‘*1 hope th’ poor unedicated jack-rabbit did’n leave no widder—er at least not more 'n one er two; but dere’s one consolation anyways ; any woman 's better off alone dan she is livin’ with a feller dat’s so cussed ignerant dat he did’n even know dat dere wuz more ‘n a thousand nerves right in ‘im, Yes, feller-citizens,” exclaimed Pete, raising his voice to make it more impressive, “every one uv us cayotes hez got more ‘n a thousand nerves, right in im! More ‘n a thou- sand! Nerves! Right in ‘m! ‘So jes’ remember dat solemn fac’, an’ come inside an’ name yer pizen.” at, wast, GETTING IT GRADUALLY. ~ S&P)ON’T you think, dear, we might afford one of the horse- POVERTY AND LIFE PREFERRED. D less eerie = " . 2s Bill, an angel cum ter me las’ night an‘ tol’ me dat I'd die rich. Save : ees eet Vol yer goin’ ter do about it7" * We might take the horseless part now and wait for fortune “I'm goin’ ter git right inter sum nice almshouse an’ live ferever.” to bring us the rest.” “TL said he lost his nerve,” teplied the stranger. “ Which ?” queried Pete in- nocently, “Which what?” returned the stranger. “W'y, which nerve, of course,” replied Pete. You say he lost his nerve, but which nerve wuz it dat Faro Dan , d DS) Si lost?” 3 g « SE Loy, ow ZG ye understan’? An‘ he lost de nerve; am I plain to youse? He lest his grip an’ slipped his lar- iat. Yes, Faro Dan he lost his own particular nerve; aldo per- haps youse think dat he lost some other feller's;” and the stranger surveyed Pete ina most insolent manner, “See here, stranger,” said Pete quietly; “allow me to say to you right here dat dere’s more ‘n a ¢housand nerves in every gent dat lives in Dead- gulch ; aldo I rather think thar A DEAD LOSS. ain't more 'n one nerve in th’ i , re Coroxsi. Roozr—"* To think, major, that I've gone and poured a quart of six-year-old Lourhon down the poor judge, hinkey-dinks uv Slaughterhouse trying to revive him, and here the doctor says that he was dead from the start !" =CcOomicbooks com