Judge — July 11, 1896 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

26 REVEREND MOAKLEY MCKOON ON THE FOURTH. ry" MA FRESCOED free soil- ‘ ers—Naixt Saturday will be de'fo'th ob July. While I enjoy de patriotic features 1 disgust de nature ob its cele- bration. De common cotton plush mind might come to de conclusion dat de revolution was a long orgie ob intossi- cation, an’ dat de way ter cel- ebrate was ter git drunk early in de day an’ den industrious- ly keep drunk until de mawn- in’ ob de Fo'th, From a kyarful study ob de life ob Gawge Washington an’ Ben- jamin Franklin, who invented the telerphore, | repudiate de allegation, Gawge belonged to the good templars, an’ Ben he was er rank third-party prohibitionist an’ run faw town-clerk. Las’ fo'th ob July Filagree Filkins, owah janitor, went ter sleep in de shadow ob de big cannon, an’ w'en de boys fired it off it burnt moah dan a pound ob wool off his haid, an’ it smelt like a fiah in a knittin’-mill. De naix day Anxiety Andrews was down ter de blacksmiff’s shop ter git Abe Dorflinger ter shrink a iron band on his haid so he could git his hat on. Dese tings ought not fer ter be. Let us rejoice calmly an’ hab a dinner ob codfish an’ taters, an’ ef we got relations in de country dat sends us a chicken let us ask no ques- tions for conscience’s sake. Read de declependence ob indignation on de back po'ch an’ sit down under yo'r own potato-vine an’ rejoice dat yo" got a pastor dat will respond to as many invitations to di ner as he can an’ ‘tend to his corospondence. Let us sing the national anthem : “ My country, bless thy stars, Sweet land of colored cars, Of thee I sing. Land where they strech our throat hage cor 2 ule tim m E STEAMER “SPREE.” AUNT S'MANTHY (irately, from her letter)—"* Quick, Silas—git on yer duds an’ tellygraft ther constable at York city ter send aour Abner back hum a-kitin'!”” | HE MEANT TI UNCLE s (amazed )—** What's he done ?* AUNT S'MANTHY—" Nothin’. Et's what he’s goin’ ter do—th’ impident cub. Allows he’s goin’ ter Vurrup on the spree, an’ thar we never knew he drank a drop !” JUDGMENTS FROM MR. MCGARVEY. UT yer trust in th’ judg- mint av th’ brain thot squakes a bit. Divil a bit av th’ growl in a felly’s voice kin b’ sane in a photigraph. Shallow water runs dape at toimes; don't yez be fer- gittin’ thot, me b’y. ‘Th’ only way some fellies kin mate a man face t face is behoind his back. What a wonder-rful ani- mal is th’ oyster ! Sure, he do sloide down a throat three soizes t' small for him with niver a wink av th’ oye. Whisht! Oil be tellin’ yezasacrit. Prisidint Clave- land has th’ backbone av th’ administhration, Sicretary iA Ge UNG Menschen NOW HE KNEW. Duri train n jore a pe ating 3 jore a ciency. of the “ye lar and eight c victed lantern As 3 trouble and for BOKE Mrs. York, | onthe kissing current blows is Tunt | on the | erate. B: Each time we try to vote, Where’er thy flag doth float Let freedom ring.” AT, WORDEN. When you leave behind an umbrella of this kind you are carefully reminded of your loss — Jones —"* This chicken is fourteen years old.” How can you tell the age of a chicken ?” By the teeth.” By the teeth ? Chickens don’t have any teeth.” No; but I have.” ALL THE DIFFERENCE, —but if it be like this—never! Olney has th’ brains, an’, be- jakers! Oi’m thinkin’ they'll be makin’ a man av it yit. DAVID H. TALMADGE comicbooks.com