Judge — November 27, 1897 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

Guage A THANKSGIVING LETTER. RISE before the sun to-day ‘To write, my dear, to you: The nightingales are singing yet, ‘The world is wet with dew. These thin blue pages that I trace So very far away Will reach the farm-house in the hills Upon Thanksgiving day. Beyond the palace-garden old Are rows of olive-trees, With pink of roses on the wall ‘And sapphire of the seas ; Bat still before my yearning gaze The yellow pumpkins shine Where fire is in the stubble now ‘And frost upon the vine. Around the little kitchen-door The trumpet-flower is dead, But on the narrow window-sill The sparrows beg for bread. I hope that you will feed them all, Fie mites of brown and gray, As Lhave never failed to do On each Thanksgiving day. Through all the chambers of my soul The winds of memory blow And bring the dear familiar sounds I heard a year ago; For love of country and of home, Though under alien skies, Is like a star that never fades, A flower that never dies. DRESSED FOR THE OCCASION. “Hubby, dear, don't you think the condition of my wardrobe needs looking into a little?” “My dear, Thanksgiving day will soon be here, and I expect to see you supplied with all the material for dressing which you need, dressed for the occasion myself.” NOT ALWAYS FINE FEATHERS THAT MAKE FINE BIRDS. ALARMING, OROTHY stood watch- So when you go to morning church And in the musty pew You turn the hymn-book's tattered leaves, As once I used to do, Oh, send a thought across the sea, ‘And do not fail to pray For all who in a foreign land Must keep Thanksgiving day. MINNA IRVING. OF KNEW HER FAILING. THe ARCH FiEND—"* Maybe you can find your wifeamong these rest stormy blast. New Arrival (from Chicago)—'*1 wouldn't wonder. She always was a high-flyer.” spirits which you see so sorely driven by the A POSSIBILITY. E'EN the sagest gobbler round it may be truly said That sometime on Thanksgiving eve he’s apt to lose his head. A QUESTION ANSWERED. HE father had been reading some news from the Klondike country, and in the article was a list in round numbers of the fortunes that had been made there. Texpect to be wi (L1 nl (1 ‘ait ing two roosters fight- ing. Suddenly she exclaimed excitedly, “Somebody stop them! They're breaking all their hairs off.” OR TEN DAYS. Reverend Dr. Primrose —"Who charged you ten dollars for your turkey ?” Uncle *Rastus—" De court.” III. “* Dar am consid‘able pickin’ on dis yar tukkey, shuah.”” “ Say, papa,” inquired the small son, “ what are round numbers ?” “ They are numbers that are not square, my son,” re- sponded the father promptly; but the boy didn’t know any more than he knew before. FOOT- BALL, Se YOUNG Kickby's head was split.” “Ah, a fall opening, eh?” HIS EXCUSE. Passenger (on a south- ern train)—" What do you mean by calling ‘hot pea- nuts’? These are cold?” + Train-boy—" Well, they were hot when we started.” comicbooks.com