Judge — January 15, 1898 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE'S FABLES. DEATH AND THE BICYCLE, and"—— But the spectre had vanished, and the bicyclist, whis- tling up his pace-makers, sug- gested that they get a wiggle on themselves and make the pace hotter for him. Moral—Life is sweet. HIS NAME IS LEGION. HIS lore survived the ossvol fame, se Of honor, friends and pall: 2 5 In fact,"twas stronger than before, Since it was for himself, HADN'T RECEIVED COMPENSATION. Selectman (soliciting sub- scriptions for a new hearse) — “And will you give something, Mrs, O'Riley?" Mrs. O'Riley —" Niver a cint, man! Didn't me fam'ly give fifty cints fer th’ lasht wan, chance hov we had wage IDER. HERE was once a bicyclist who, bent double with scorching and century runs, had dismounted his bike, hope- lessly tired, and cried out, It’s no use; I cannot keep up the clip my pace-mak- ers set me. Oh, that Death would only come and take me!" As he spoke Death, a grisly skeleton, appeared and said to him,."" Well, you wished me. peak!" V-y-yes,” said the cyclist (innately thankful that he had taken a dose of quinine that morning, a chill having come over him), “y-y-yes: b-b-but I hardly thought you could make the trip from Klondike so quick- ly. You see, kind sir, I wanted to have you use your influence in getting me disqualified in the next six-day bicycle- endurance contest, as 1 am very anx- ious to live out my natural life, A MEMBER OF ISRAEL. KeER—"* Tecicked, blease.” IF A COLD WAVE SHOULD STRIKE THE INFERNAL REGIONS. A view of what would probably happen if the people who have been roasting for thousands of years could only have a chance to cool off, Satan will be seen in the foreground directing his demons to capture and punish anybody who appears to be having a good time. Vhat! mea teeicked? Ain'd dot nose tecicked enough for you? Such A DROP OF COMFORT. ““An’ phwat's thot yez is adoin’ there wid thot bottle, Missis Duflygan?* A **Shurg, an’ me owld, man has tumbled down th’ well an’ dragged th" fope wid him ” * Hodn't | betther run fer his riv'rince an’ bring him here put his blessin’ on th” poor craythur?” “Don't put yesself t' thot throuble, Missis Shea, i've sint fer some laborin’ min, an’ they'll hov him out in no toime : an’ as fer blessin’s, divil a greater one can be given to him at th’ prisint moment than phwat this bottle contains.” INSINUATING, $+ OBBIE, fd be ashamed to have my face as dirty as yours.” “Hub! you've got whiskers.” AND. | POSSESS IT. LOVE thy face, oh, Liberty! Else I would be a craven; But most of all I love it when Upon a dollar graven. JUST HIT IT. Thompson—" Something worrying you, Newman?” Newman —" Forgotten what my wife ordered this morn- ing. I remember that, at the time, 1 thought, ‘ Well, that’s a. sad subject.’ What could it have been?” Thompson—"Was it sad- irons?” Newman —That's just what it was—three sad-irons!" comicbooks.com