Judge — December 14, 1895 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

A ROMANCE OF FLORIDA. Cotte Drycoons—" Ha! the rich yacht-owner’s daughter has fallen overboard. —— Kicit VacHT-owier—" Noble young man— AND SATAN LAUGHED. SBAND—"* Why do you object to tobacco 2” Because it’s a poison.” But it's a slot poison.” vike—"* That's my objection.” FROZEN OUT. S$ THE cable-car crossed the boulevard the sad-faced man caught a glimpse of some bloomer-girls whirling by on their wheels. A look of disgust overspread his features. "see you don't approve of them,” remarked the man in the corner. “TL can’t say that I do.” “Neither did I at first; but when a woman makes up her mind 10 & have anything she is going to have it—so now I take them philosophically. I guess you're rather old-fogyish in your ideas.” “Not at all. I try to keep right up to date.” “Perhaps, then, you think them immodest ? “No; I'm sensible enough to see that so many women wouldn't wear them if they were objectionable on that score." “Then you must be so much of a man that you don’t believe a woman should have any rights at all.” “I forgive you, sir, on the ground that you don’t know me. it myself, I'm one of the most reasonable persons that ever lived.” “Then I give it up as a bad job. I seem to have questioned you from every standpoint. Now, my dear sir, would it be too much to ask you why you object to bloomers?” “It’s on the ground of personal comfort. You see I have a wife and I Tsay ( —my cook will be eternally grateful to you for saving her life.” five daughters, and since they have all taken to wearing y more to stand with my back before the open-grate tire. JAMES JAY O'CONNELL HER WAY OF PUTTING IT. EDITH had been undressed and sent to bed and mam- ima had gone out for a moment. When she returned the little girl was standing in the middle of the room, ery- ing earnestly. “Why, what's the matter, dearest?" * Boo-hoo-hoo ! d-d-dark.” T-1_b-bumped my searer ‘gainst th’ THE SILVER QUESTION. HIS baie was sitvered while her locks were gold, * Come, be my wife,” said he ; "I'm not too old.” ver and gold can't wed, so don't insist,” Quoth she, “for I'm a monometallist.” THE WRETCH! * Have you never pictured yourself snugly pretty home with a lovely wife?” “ Whose wife, Johnson?” A MISNOMEK. ‘The tender-shod reader would not naturally think, to look at these men, that one of the party was “shy.”