Judge — February 6, 1897 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

HIS UNAPPRECIATED EFFORT. OW the life of the self-supporting single woman,” said Miss Oldgyrl with a chal- lenging gleam in her eye-glasses, “is with- out question the ideal life. She submits to nobody, caters to nobody, hangs on the ca- pricious good-nature of nobody. In respect to untrammeled, lofty independence the sin- gle life is perfection,” "Yes," responded the married man who had convictions of his own, but who was making an earnest effort to be pleasing; “yes. And then there's generally a chance —er—always a chance, you know, that a woman may marry after all. You know "— * Fools argue,” Miss Oldgyrl proceeded, disregarding the interruption,“ that a single woman misses much of the pleas- antness of life. In some slight degree that is possibly con- ceivable; but what does she escape? AZ’ the unpleasantness of life—all !" “Yes, she does,” said the married man meekly; “ you're right. And it isn’t as if there wasn’t any prospect of her ever getting married, you know. It isn’t, really. Women don't marry so young as they used to, anyhow. Why, I knew of és sure cure for one woman "—— midutes. Id w “Of the thousand wearing cares of a family life,” said hoo-chee-koo !" Miss Oldgyrl with a cold stare at the married man, “the unmarried woman as a rule knows nothing. She need not cramp and lower her intellect to the daily round of small duties by which most women are made mere machines, and she may therefore bend her pow- ers to the higher and nobler pursuits.” “1 know it,” said the married man; “I know it. And if she gives up hope just because she hasn’t—er— stepped off as early as some she makes a foolish mistake. While there's life there’s hope, / say. “The single life,” said Miss Old- gyel distinctly and frigidly, “is the em bodiment of freedom and self-centred THE STAMP OF TRUTH. First FELLOW-cITIZzEN—"'T see you god a bad code id your head, Led me teh you a Juss ged a liddie asferdity ad a liddie oi of tar, ad taig a spoodfuh ev'y ted Cure you id haf a hour, Hoo-chee-koo ! hoo-chee-koo ! hoo-chee-hoo-chee- SHE CHANGED HER MIND. ISS BOSTON was taking Sunday dinner with her country cousins in Berkshire, and on being asked what part of the chicken she liked replied that if she had any preference at all it was for the perambulator. “The what?” Uncle Si asked, plunging his fork into the fowl. “Why, perambulator,” she stam- mered, very much embarrassed. “Wacal, what's that?” Blushing, she went into the hall and changed her mind. “ What did ye say ye'd hev?” the old man asked on her return. strength. Who denies that it gives a “Why, the pinion, please, Uncle woman the highest opportunities for And she got the neck, development and advancement, and , hence for signal success in whatever TOOK THE CAKE. HER TEMPER SUITED IT. she may undertake? Who denies There was great hesitation on the part of the judges until Miss “Nobody,” rejoined the married — acclamation. “ Not there's BANGS'S LAST DUCK-HUNT. What's the trouble? Is the duck-hunter in the “blind” — No; crazy? Well, if so, it is justifiable. Near-sighted Bangs has just era au his pneumatic decoy-ducks. like.” ied up and punctured fifteen dollars’ worth of @f€ entirely too life- Moonlight made her appearance, when she was awarded the cake by **”T HIS is very disagreeable weath- er," remarked Mr. Tiff. man with eager and “Well, don’t blame me for it." snapped his wife. “I didn’t persistent cheerfulness, manufacture it.” for a minute. And nobody denies that a woman isn’t any older than she looks, either; not aday. And I repeat that there's no necessity for a woman to lose courage when alw possibility But he v ing to the frosty, dis- appearing view of Miss Oldgyr!'s rigid shoul- der-blades. THE AGE OF IMPRESSIONISM. First artist (j tronizingly)—"Van Dike is a good’ fellow, but he never will be a finished painter.” Second artist—_— prietor)— Il of his figures new trousers AVOIDING A DELICATE MATTER. Assistant TAILOR (of Pizen Creek tailor-shop, # whisper to pro- y. shall I ask the parson if he wants a flask-pocket in these Proprietor (sotto voce, tactfully)—"* He likely wants one, Bill; but he's temperance an’ he might get touchy if you asked him that. | Ask him if he wants a pistol-pocket in ‘em.” comicbooks.cdm