Judge — March 12, 1898 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Vitae MARCH. NIGHT, and the raging blast, and the scurry of snow and sleet, And the stinging and flinging and tossing of needles of frost in the air ; But I know there's a face at the window, in a dear little house up the street, , And what if the March is cruel, why do I need to care? Morn, and the trees bend low, with the glistening ‘snow that clings, And jewels flash from the brown oak leaves, in the glow of the sunitt skies. ‘There's a warmth in the touch of the sun, and a flutter of robins’ wings, And March is tender, and lore looks oat from a pair of lovelit eyes. OIA PLAYTER SRARURY. PURELY MONE’ Tortie — “It’s a shame | the way we have to kick for our | money.” | ‘Tessik—"" Of course you are alluding to ‘off the boards. ANOTHER CASE OF RETRIBUTION. This is the punishment due the musical genius who on earth had the room next to you, and practised thirteen hours a day. GAIN IN ONE DIRECTION. Nobbs —" Can that dude Tompkins see any better with that single glass of his ?” HIS DEFINITION. Hobbs — Not most things, but you see it gives him an eye for Dusty Dooran—" De bankers ov dis country, troo deir trusted employees style.” | bein’ hypnotized, are losin’ big wads o' money. Dis hypnotism 's a great t'ing.” Bony Baniay— Wer is hypnotism?” dat wen Gey re ln eat prdictenalat Ki cay ter tgwres doa AP DESTER ATE: REMEDY: Angelina — But what do 1 see—trousers?- Ethel, what means this strange array of garments masculine?” , Ethel —"Ab, do not betray me; neces- sity has driven me to dark devices. I have much shopping to do and little time to do it in, and 1 am about to disguise myself as a man, I've got to get the shopgirls’ at- tention somehow, and I know no other way. WHY SHE CALLED HIM SAINT. SSWVHAT are you reading now, my own?” Inquired papa ia fondest tone. Fair Isabella, quite sincere, Made quick reply, “* Saint Virgil, dear. Perplexed, the father faintly smiled ** But Virgil 's not a saint, my child. The classic maid, with dreamy eyes, Answered in tones of some surprise, * Why, surely, that’s what I'd infer Of one who's been translated, EN ROUTE TO THEATRE. ELIZABETH MABEL oRYAR, Sa rsiek=- ily nev bane ‘ ve [- 1 Finding a big nogget — By special carrier- sig ae ; NOTHING: streogthens¢ goman's sell: Pigeon **Charlie H." Time, one second. Papa Fosdick — See that you keep it confidence like a proposal. One is a wonder, two a superfluity, and three an epi- demic. there through the evening.” II, A deserted claim—By special carrier-pigeon IIE, Panning dirt — By special carrier-pigeon IV. Working a claim—By special carrier-pigeon “Clarkie A.” Time, one-half second. “Beatrice G.” Time, any old tinve. “Marguerite A.” Time, good time. OUR ARTIST IN THE KLONDIKE. Wishing to be foremost in the field of up-to-date journalism, and at great expense, the JuDGE has succeeded in sending a special artist to the Klondike. Ow- i tng to our magnificent carrier pigeon service, we are enabled to present at this early date these foteresting sketches of everyday life in the great gold fields, direct rom the ike, comicbooks.com