Judge — March 21, 1896 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

492 uae WITH THE MINSTRELS. & 6QAY, Mose, duz yo" fink dat when Adam got dat rib turned into a woman dat was de important busi- ness ob his life?” “Ob co'se it was.” “Well, it wasn't. Dat was only a side issur “Ya, ya; but, Bones, which side did she come out ob, eh?” “ De same side woman allus comes around him on. De blind side.” “Ya, ya; but say, it’s mighty lucky it stop whar it did.” “ Why, Mose ?” | “Bekase I know some fellers would kep’ at it as long as dar ribs held out, an’ den try to work up some er der backbone.” “Golly, yo's right! Ketch de key an’ sing ‘ Dar's frost on de garden gate.” SAINT PATRICK’S DAY RALLY IN HOOLIGAN’S BACK ROOM. O Grady (chairman)—* Musther McMullin an * Th’ dhay we cilibrate. MeMullin —" Felly Oirishmin an’ Amurikins, it do be fillin’ me sowl wid de- loight t’ be in th’ middle av yez this avenin’. Whin Oi do be thinkin’ av ould Oire- land me troat dhraps inty me mout’ an’ me hart is ovherflowin’ wid uttherance. Th’ wur-ruld is agin an Oirishman, b’t loike a bhy wid a bladther toied t’ th’ nick av ‘im, th’ divil hissel cudn’t dhrownd ‘im. Th’ Ah, Pay. Ahs, an’ th’ sons av King Willum do be ivryphware ferninst us, throyin’ squeedge out th’ discindints av Brian Bhoru, b’t, hivin blesh th’ boones av Saint Pathrick! Amuriky hova p'lace foorce an’ th’ Oirish do be afther hovin’ it. Yis, an’ be th’ powers ! dhey hov th’ boord av wur-ruks. Now, phwat ‘d a tarrier be, gintle- min av th’ joory? A tarrier ‘s a mon phwat shmokes a dugeen an’ hov a heriditary jhob an th’ boord of wur-ruks, “Oh, felly-cithigens !_ me sowl screedges wid glory whin Oi walks th’ shtrates av a Tuesday marnin’ an’ t' behould th’ tarriers wid th’ hods av thim, loike th’ angels av ladther be th’ boible, ashen- " dayshendin’. An’, be jab- ers, th’ tarrier bates th’ angels, fur he do be afther gittin’ his twilve shillin’ th’ dhay. Thrust th’ tarrier fur thot. “Sez Oi wid me doyin’ brith, Pat! * Dhown wid th’ Sashenach an’ ould A WORD TO MOTHERS, Refore the opening of our parks allow us to suggest an idea to our faithful (2) police-loving nurses, so that mothers may at least know where to find their lost little dears outside of ‘station-houses. FOR WINTER USE. Jupce’s patent sled-coasting-bicycle for winter riding. Oireland furiver!’ An’ ther be won ferninst me phwat ‘d be afther pledgin’ Saint Pathrick in a glash av th’ crathur, Oi'll be not avarse t’ wettin’ me whussle be th’ same token.” O-Grady—* McMullin, yer a joint! Bar-tinther, usquebaugh fur sivin.” MOTHERLY PRIDE AND FATHERLY SOLICITUDE. uk ot th’ little angel troyin’ t’ git th’ can ay tomatoes, He's thot intelligint he knows dere’s suthin’ good Mr. Murpity (suspiciously observant)—"* Thor's a perhops th’ little divil 's only marked afther Casey's goat.” \soide av it.” impty can, Mary Ann; mos PRISCILLA. RISCILLA'S cheeks are cold and hard, Withal they're pink and pretty She 's tender eyes and laughing mouth, But neither wise nor witty, Her hair is golden as the sun, It is not soft or waving ; She's up to date — o'er women’s rights I've never heard her raving. Her dress is of the latest style, Priscilla never flaunts it ; And though she sees a stylish hat She ne'er insists she wants it. If in ber presence you should swear, With dread she'd not look at you— Because my dear Priscilla is A parlor-mantel statue. WILL CHAPMAN. THE best of life is ever still ahead, or just behind. tro ani Re cla dre rhe tha the Ba ne ing a ween