Judge — January 25, 1896 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

FROM JUDGE'S DIC- TIONARY. History —Fiction founded on fact. Greatness —The penalty men pay for indulging personal vanity. Religion —The relations be- tween ourselves and our self-inter- ests. Consetence—An immaterial foot- ball, buffeted about until wind- ed and thrown aside. Theology—The science of con- vincing opponents how little they know of their duties to the Deity. Philosophy—The art of doing as one pleases theoretically, calling names and contradicting everything in sight. It has fallen into disuse owing to the fact that nothing re- mains to be controverted. = EDWAKO CLAYTON SAVAGE. MELODRAMA AT DEAD GULCH. a ALt Ike (checking the fleeting egg and covering Bronco Pete)—"* Hold hard, thar, Pete! Who yer reckinin’ on BECAUSE IT ISN'T. tht aig WHAT isa joke? Bronco PEte (infuriatedly)—"* Ther vill'in, o' course. Any o” your funeral ?* as ALKALL_IkE—"* Ya-as ; it's th’ funeral o' my best suit o° buckskins I rented ‘im. Soak th’ hero, pard, er drap th’ This. Savvy?” Discouracen PorT—"' No rich €s,no fame. Must I resort to desper- T'l buy a bottle of Dr. Jim- Then I'll drop the manufact- realized, The world shall know who ate means to make myself known to idney, liver, lights and bowel _urers a favorable testimonial, inclosing I am, for my stereotype will appear the world—Paris green, or chloroform, renovator, a photograph, of course. in every patent-inside throughout our or pistols? Ab, no; neither. — broad land gratis, Wow !” —I will then see my ambitions THE BRIDE’S TRAGEDY. ASS THE bride of a brief month crouched in a comer of the divan—crouched amongst es > her gorgeous pillows, while the bitter tears streamed down and stained the deli- sh cate fabrics. This was the end of her young ambitions, her brave efforts to make life one grand, sweet song. As she uttered one last sigh of despair her mother entered the room and flew to the divan, casting her arms about her prostrate child. “ My darling girl, what is it?” she cried. “Confide in your mother. What is it that thus wrings your heart?” “Nenothing, ma; n-nothing. B-but it is all over.”” “What is all over?” questioned the mother in affright. ‘Has your husband abused you?” “No, ma,” saia the bride, raising herself upon her elbow and speaking with tragic emphasis. “You remember what my ambition has been for months? W-well"—sob- bing—"I cut both bloomers for one leg, and it was a rem- nant and I can't match it anywhere.” “My child,” said her mother solemnly, “your trouble is indeed too great to bear.” YLORENCE &. PRATT. HER CONCLUSION. SeMAMMA," said Edith in a whisper, as the bald-headed man with the {all beard entered: the: room, HE THOUGHT IT WAS FOR IIIS “there's a man whose hair p . AMUSEMENT. is all growed down through ‘ Lirtie Witte (as his grandpa slips up NEW" PAIR OF SKATES. his face” on a banana-peel)—"* Do it again, gran'pa !"