Judge — December 21, 1895 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

DRILL OF THE SECTION-GANG. WHY HE COM- PLAINED. WHEN Mr. Never- well came down to breakfast one morn- ing recently his face wore that sadly drawn- down expression indi- cating that something was wrong with his physical man, and when he drew up to the table he gave vent toaslight sigh. When his coffee and cakes were set before him he dallied for a time before eating, but at length began slowly to put away a comforta- ble meal. As he was finishing his third cake he chanced to observe that his wife was not eating. “ What's the mat- ter, love?" he inquired. “I'm not feeling well.’ “What! You're not sick too, are you?” No reply being of- fered to this useless query, he continued, “Now, that’s too I'm fer to it RIVAL NUMBER ONE—"' Oh, no; but I've been there every night for a week and haven't seen you,” disgusted — no, I'm sorry, But what's the matter with you, anyway?” Mrs, N. said she had a headache and was short of appetite. | “ Bosh, every bit!" exclaimed Mr, N. “Why, you just must feel better at oace—imme- diately. Understand?" “ How strangely you talk, Henry! What de you mean?” “I mean,” said Mr. N., his voice sinking into the sigh key, “ that I'm sick myself to-day. It's my turn, You were sick yesterday, you know, and I've everything arranged at the office, and I just can’t put it off now. Try and brace up, love.” Mrs. N. smiled through her pain and said she'd try, DAVID M. TALMADGE. EVERYTHING STOPPED. Steamer-captain— There's something decidedly wrong with this vessel. She hasn't moved an inch for an hour.” Purser— No; there is a party of chess-players down in the cabin.” BETWEEN POETS. ss YOU'RE not going to send this thing to the mag- azines, are you?” “ Why not?” “You'll waste postage, that’s all, The blamed thing makes sense.” MY WIFE, S CHRISTMAS approaches she goes out to shop, And jigs about hither and thither ; Yet I care not a bit though she walk till she drop, For this year I am not going with her. A SUBURBAN INVITATION. ‘THE honor of your presence is requested at Hih- hill lodge, on Woodlawn avenue, Wednesday evening. If it is decided to postpone the reception on account of the weather a red light will be displayed. If ; NECESSARILY TURNING FROM “GRAVE” TO GAY. the children should happen to catch measles or scarlet Parson Dekems (tho has absent-mindedly opened to the burial-service, solemnly)—"In de ve i il 1 midst ob laife we am in def"-——-Groom (alarmed) —" Umph !" ——" Lien-a.bey oberjoyed in (ever # ren light will be shown. If the cook should bringin’ toegedder dis cupple in de bonds ob hymeneal conjogality.” (Reproachfully surveys the ‘eave there will be a blue light. In case of postpone- groom during the continuance of the ceremony.) ment please come a week later. R. s. v. p.” « comicbooks.com