Judge — December 19, 1896 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

“MY OLD DUTCH." * We've been together now for more than forty year.” LOST OPPORTUNITIES. + AHL" sighed Slushy Mud, the hobo, as he tossed restlessly about Farmer Newmown's hay-loft and fervently cursed the diabolical duplicity which would feed an adulteration of sand-burrs and Scotch * thistles to an uncomplaining kine instead of pure hay; “ah, Bill, it gives me a pain all over w’en I tink uv me childhood days, an’ how as a kid I uster git up at t'ree an’ four o'clock on Chris’mas mornin’s an’ creep out in me little ‘nighty' to de sittin’-room w'ere stood de Chris’mas- tree, a Ving uv beauty an’ a joy fer an hour or $0, an’ wid me little fair-haired sister (she’s an angel now, I trust an’ believe) stand in an ecstasy uv wunder an’ delight at de glitterin’ baubles dere displayed, an’ slyly inspect each love-sent gift, an’ nibble at de candy-canes, an’ take a suck at casual oranges, an’ try on de skates an’ rubber boots, an’ drag de sleds over de sofa an’ pianner a few times, an’ look inter de pictur’-books, an’ kiss de dolls, an’ den, w'en de gray uv dawn wuz breakin’ over de eastern hills, we'd scamper back ter bed agin an’ wait fer de nurse ter come an’ dress us, an’ never let on dat we knew a ting about de Chris’mas-tree at ali. Yes, Bill; w'en I t'ink uv de good sleep I lost year alter year—good, sound, nice, comfort- able, high-priced, delicious feather-bed sleep —by gittin’ up at t'ree o'clock mornin’s ter look at Chris'mas-trees w'en a kid—w'y, say! I feel jes’ like kickin’ meself all over dis hay- mow. I do, indeed.” A FRIENDLY TIP. Cora—" Well, papa, what is it?” Brown—"\f that young man of yours gives you an expensive present for Christmas don’t ask him the time for the next six months or so,” 'O YOUR mother-in-law there is only one thing that you shouldnt give, and that is your address, a with it?” 2. ——Thar! I reckon thet mallet ‘ll fix yer old tail.” a Better World.” Christmas Judge A BOOMERANG. ial ee ; Quit switchin’ thet pesky tail, I ‘supposed you used it in making those LOOKING BACKWARD. F SANTA CLAUS'S mother We've ne‘er had any news ; But he ’s a tipsy brother Whose name is Santa Cruz. NO SMALL JOB. Kingley—" Have you got your wile’s Christmas present yet?” Bingo —"No; my stenogra- pher has been too busy.” Kingley—" What has he to do Bingo—" He's going to take a list of all the things she wants.” ‘0 YOUR rich uncle you should send a copy of “ Thoughts of GETTING BACK AT HIM. FatHer—* Did you see Santa Claus, my son?” st I don’t know whether it was Santa Claus or not, bat I saw a little -legged, red-nosed, pot-bellied old duffer come into my room last night and put a ten-cent pocket-knife and a lot of bum candy into my stocking.” IN IGNORANCE. 6['D JUST like to know whether Uncle Tom sent me a Christmas present or not,” said Miss Keedick to Miss Fosdick. “Don't you know?” “Well, I thought he hadn't, and I want- ed to remind him of his stinginess; so I said, +Oh, Uncle Tom! I am perfectly delighted with the gift you sent me.’ And he replied, “1 am very glad it pleased you.’ Now I don’t really know whether he sent me anything or not—whether it got lost in transit or what; for of course after that I couldn't ask him what he sent.” RETROSPECT. THOUGH none can think that i is pleasant ‘To be among the cynics classed, Few can admit the Christmas present Is happier than the Christmas past, NEVER FORGAVE HIM. Mrs, Cobwigger—" Oh, my dear! some- body has stolen the outside door-mat.” Cobwigger—*\ noticed it was gone, but 3, Moony —"* Excuse me, uncle; there's a fly on your (if h comicbooks.com