Judge — December 18, 1897 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

OLD MR. TIFF’S PRESENTS. ae HELLo! What's this I see said Mr. Bickers, as he en- tered Mr. Tiff’s private office with all the confidence of a privileged character and saw his friend with a variety of articles of various sorts spread out upon his des! “Don’t you know what time of the year this is?” asked Mr. Tiff. “This is Christmas eve.” * Just so.” “And those are,” waving his hand toward the collection of jew= elry and bric-a-brac, “Christmas gifts.” Guessed it first time,” replied Mr. Tiff. “You're a smart man.” “You must have quite a lot of people to make presents to. “Lhave,” said Mr. Tiff, as he took up a gold watch. * This is for my son, who will be of age soon. Isn’t that a beauty of a timepiece ?” “It certainly is. The boy ought to be proud of it.” Mr. Tiff ted a pearl necklace. “That gewgaw is for my eldest daughter. She comes out in February, and I think she will look well with that string of pearls around her neck; don’t you?” “They would certainly add immensely to any young lady's beauty," was Mr, Bickers’s approving reply. in that box yonder is a sealskin collar for my second daughter, and here,” laying his hand on a rather bulky oblong box, fi * boy, who is of amecha took up a pair of flashing diamond ear-rings and held them so as to catch the light from the window, “I suppose is to gladden the heart of your wife?" “Well, no,” replied Mr. Tiff; “my wife's present is in this small case. It is a bottle of her favorite perfume.” “ But those splendid dia- monds?" You think they are splen- did, do you asked Mr. Tiff with deep in- terest. perb stones, per fectly matched, and set in most exquisite taste in a perfect fascinating de- sign.” “Tam so glad you approve of them,” said "They are for my type- WOMAN'S TASTE AT FAULT. HE. Christmas necktie may be fun, But yet it makes me wilt ‘To have my best girl give me one Made like a patchwork quilt. MISSED THE SPREAD. Parson Primrose—" How was it you didn’t have a turkey dinner this year 2" e dis wuz de Christmas Judge. NO DANGER OF DETECTION. NossexneD—"" Shay, m' frien’, kin yo" tell me where (hic) 's a telephone office ¢ I wan’ tell my wife (hic) I've got business ‘ten’ to, an’ I don’ want her t’ smell my breath.” THE BRUTE. Mrs, Cobwigger—" Oh, Henry ! you don’t know how bad I feel, Fred die stole two of the mince-pies I made. Cobwigger—" Never mind, my dear; perhaps they won't kill him. Weary Wrageles—"'C fust Chris'mus | didn’t spend on de island.” Eruen, h i DorotHy—" Oh, you don’t love him one bit ; if you did you would call it auburn.” ** You see, I am not quite sure whether I love him or not. He has red hair and "—- comicbooks.com