Judge — January 18, 1896 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE ON THE BENCH. WOMAN is always right, for she is; as Pope says, * What- ever is is right. A school is an institution in which youths of immature years are taught how easy it would be to learn if the necessary time could be spared from the forms and side issues. A cane is a deadly weapon borne by dudish young gentle men in such a manner as to lead people to suppose they are not as harmless as appearances would otherwise indicate. Little Fin-de-Siécle’s idea of a street: A place where corners meet and put up signs to show which is this way and which is that, and the society for the prevention of cruelty to animals put little tubs for the doggies to drink out of and posts for the men to lean against when they have that tired feeling. An artist is one who portrays nature naturally. A great artist—he whose portraiture is such that it leaves the critics in doubt and thus renders them wary of venturing on dubious | ground. An artist of genius—one so imbued with the divine spirit of his art as to be unintelligible to himself or any other of human mould, EDWARD CLAYTON SAVAGE. Para (on the top of the stairs)—** \s that young man gone, Mamie?” Manin —"" Yes, papa ; awfully WID THADY’S PIPE BESIDE THE DURE. WILD Thady’s pipe beside the dure, Wid Thady’s pipe beside the dure The work all done, the praties bubblin’ An’ ‘Vhady there, at paice an’ aisy— ‘The childer playin’ on the flure, Could wife or woman ask for more Oh,what could make me heart bethrubblin'? —__Barrin’ she wor a fool—or crazy ? T'll smooth me hair an’ take me knittin'— A quane ‘id want 9 blissin’ higher A body might as well be sittin’ Than her good man, in comfort, nigh her. Wid Thady’s pipe beside the dure— Wid Thady's pipe beside the dure, A CLEVER MANIPULATOR. The parfume av it warm an’ cozy, T'll lilt a while an’ toe me stockin’, Mrs. Jones (to colored youth, who has shoveled off her walk) Swater than rose of hawthorn! Sure Wid friendly talk an’ jokes galore, —"You have shoveled off the walk very nicely, and here is a V'd rather it than anny posy, Me fut, betimes, the cradle rockin— quarter for. yous, Dy ome live, bor.ts.too/leey Ne, shovel: sam. : y J sik pel and is away playing somewhere Bekase —the raison why—tis scinted It's far to God my hairt is strayin’ ‘TomMy JONES (pocketing the quarter)—* Don't worry about Wid braithin’s av a moind continted. ‘An’ many 's the happy prayer I'm sayin’. your own little boy, mamma; | thought you wouldn't know me Maneuine © meiooes, with burnt cork on my face MULROV'S STRATAGEM, | Mrs. M nnis, phat'll we do? Here's Mrs. Casstpy—" Thot’s him, th’ ugly divi Cassidy an’ his woife, from Hoboken, t' take wan Oj wonder how Rosie iver cud marry a mon wi look at yure crayon pictur’, an’ lasht T’ursday you mout' loike a catfish?” upsit an’ broke it i Mr. Casstpy (scornfully)—"'An’ ‘tis him thot Cassidy. An’ ‘tis you, Ellen Cassidy, whot t'inks , Mk. MuLrov—" Nivir moind. Oil knale on inks he’s purty. Barrin’ Flannery, th’ mon whose ye are bewtiful, but Oi niver hear-rd thot th’ Jer-rsey th’ flure behoind th’ aysil an” shtick me hid an’ fase was hurted in th’ railroad wreck, he’s th’ ugliest Lily came from Hoboke shouldhers in th’ frame. ‘Tur-rn down th’ loight an’ mon in his war-r sind Cassidy an’ his woife up shtairs.” a Mr. MuLroy—‘ Out av me house wid yez! Out av me house! Oi'll_be aven wid yez fur dhis, , i comicbooks.com “ts wan onl; dret gun rhe we nov ing int ext aro} fur diff deit _ Wot ter awa