Judge — March 27, 1897 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

WHAT CAUSED THE TROUBLE—A STORY WITHOUT WORDS. HOW FAR WAS IT? D/STANCES among the mount- ains of Kentucky, West Vir- ginia and Tennessee seem to be one of the unsolvable problems of the mountaineers, and though a whole life-time may be spent in one locality the distance of that locality in exact figures from any point on the earth's surface, far or near, remains forever an unknown quantity to every man and woman the stranger in those parts may meet as he fares from place to place on his horse or on the open deck of a buckboard. Many a time have I been told in response to my question as to the distance to some given point," Well, it’s about four miles the way yer got Suage THE BLOOMER GIRL. HIS Lenten’ season breaks her heart. ‘She knows that if she bants With many charms she'll have to part, ‘And won't look well in pants. PREACHING THE GOSPEL WITH RESTRICTIONS. Visitor — Well, Uncle Bill, how do the folks up here like their new minister?" Uncle Bill—Pratty waal, | 4 guess. I hain't hearn ‘s he's offendid none on ‘em yit, but he hez ter be — dretful keerful. ‘They don't ‘low him ter meddle with polerticks ner temp- runce, ner ter say but very little agin the devil” GRACEFULLY ACKNOWLEDGED, Parson Jounson—"* How did dat chicken-stealin’ case agin youah son Abe come out?" DEAcon Jackson—"Ob, de jury beliebed Abe. Dey beliebed his side ob de story completely.” PARSON JouNson— Dat so? Whad did he say?” Deacon Jackson—"* He said he stole de chickens.” ONE REASON WHY. A MINISTER'S little son had been greatly interested in the preparing and sending of a missionary-box. The following Sunday his mother was reading his Sunday-school lesson to him, and when she read the verse, “ Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?” the little fellow exclaimed, “1 don’t wonder the heathen rage when they have to wear such old clothes.” to go"—meaning by that that the road for wagons was one distance, the bridle-path was another, and the foot- path still another, and no one of them known nearer than guess-work, though now and then an answer would refer to a “measured mile.” But it remained for a saffron-skinned woman on the head waters of the Kentucky river to give me the answer which of all answers of distance fully represented her idea A MEXICAN MEMORY. “The macpalxochiquahitt, or hand-flower tree, which grows in Mexico, bears a red flower whose petals resemble in shape a human hand.” —Medern Mexico, NEY 4 macpalxochiquahitt blossom, Plucked by her little hand, She gave me at parting—Seflor Anita Ysabel Carmen Dolores Juanita, Of Xochimilcocquetl, Near Mount Popocatapetl, Over the Rio Grande. PRACTICAL PHILOSOPHY. ITTLE Nancy was listening one day to a short lecture from her mother on “right and wrong.” She listened silently a while, but finally sighed dubiously and said, “ Oh, dear, mother! it seems to me the whole BOOS of it, and to me was ‘as clear as mud.” I had f been riding for two hours, on a tip given me at the tavern where I stopped over night that U HAG it was ten miles to the Mouth of Cowan, and Wy) } y still I did not seem to be much nearer than Wy < when I started. I was losing my temper, and ring t Mp MY) in this frame of mind I- rode up to a cabin Wr, My Yy fj where the saffron-complected” woman was YY q / rawing a bucket of water from a well in the Hy j h front yard. “Good-morning,” I said. “Is this the road to the Mouth of Cowan?” "Yes, sir,” she answered, coming down to- ward the fence. “ How far is it?” ) “Waral,” she said in a slow, calculating 4 tone, “I can't say fer shore, but hit's a right fer piece.” THROWN DOWN AGAIN, Hosritat Puysictas—" How's this, Bangs? I sent you out for a convalescent airing yesterday, and here you are with a relapse.” BANcs (sad/y)—"" Well, doc, as the sidewalks were icy Tconceived that screwing on a pair of skates to the bottoms. of my crutches was an idea,’ and—and I slipped up on it.”” wp tasrrow