Judge — February 8, 1896 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

90 CANDLEMAS. AT CANDLEMAS the doting bear, To see his shadow in the sun, Crawls out into the upper air And finds that half his nap is done. Bat if no shadow chance to fall, Into his den he goes again, And for the winter not at all Appears upon the hill or plain. So reads the fable we were told i When boyhood days were fresh and / fair, And not for all the world could hold Would we have been the dozy bear. JoRL nExTon, THE WINNER. Willie—" What's the matter with your nose, Bobby?” Bobly —" Tommy Higginbot- ham an’ me had a fight in school about some marbles.” Willie—" Who got em?” Bobby—" Teacher.” OPEN TO QUESTION. S46 YOUNG man,” said the mer- chant to the prospective of- fice-boy, “are you fairly well edu cated?” NOT A PROPITIOUS TIME. “I be,” replied the boy proudly. POET (entering southern sanctum)}—"* I guess it will be just as well if I don't offer my poem entitled ‘ Love’ to-day.” A DECEPTIVE CAVITY, Doctor—" Mr. Johnson, I have brought you some pills to take and a Mr. Jounson—' Say, doctah, dat funnel joke, hit done does me mo’ good funnel to guide them into your throat.” dan yo' medicine. Yah, yah, yah !" N55 Mayes — (/ - one A BIASED HUMANITARIAN, _ IN THE PUSH. Ase Potnunter (alarmedly)—"* Hol’ on, pap! Don't kick th’ dog.” Tt was mean of Coriolanus Clancey to cut the buttons off his sister's Riey PoTuunter—" How long sence yew've bin a humane-s'ciety agint ” coat, but then they were pearls beyond price to him in supplying a long- Abe PotHuyte: ‘ain't thet, pap. Th’ whelp swallered haff a box o' my forty. felt snow-shoe want. four-calibre cartridges this xnornin’, an’ the’ hain't no tellin’ w'ich way they're p'intin’,””