Judge — May 7, 1898 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

JUDGE'S FABLES. THE LAME MAN. HERE was once a lame man who was very poor. Long and un- ceasingly had he struggled to lay by a few dollars for a rainy day, but invariably when he had got a surplus in bank there would come rain for a month, thus forcing him to draw out his sav- ings, and to even borrow more from friends; but pluckily he would start again hoarding, and in course of time deposit an- other wad in bank—then the bank would go up. One day an idea struck him. “Ha!” he cried; “war is about to be declared. I will make my lameness yet serve me.” War was declared, and by volunteering he evaded the medical examiner and was soon en route for the battle- field, chuckling gleefully, “I won't do a thing to the government pension-bureau when I return. I won't do a thing but swear that my lameness was caused by arduous service, thereby getting a fat quarterly pension from Uncle Sam.” And his merriment waxed strong, and was with him until his first experience under fire, when a horrible thought came over him, “ Suppose that I were to be hit?” he groaned. “I hadn't thought of that.” The next moment the order was given to retreat, and although the lame man kept up with his general's white horse for some distance his lame leg finally gave out; and as he felt a ma- chete disconnecting his cervical verte- bra: he realized that for getting it in the neck he was fated, and died as a game-(legged) man only could. Moral—If you think of any bright schemes that are not strictly on the level—forget ‘em. W. R COOK. ALL ALIKE, “'Shockingly unprincipled lot, those bar-tenders. One of them passed a bad quarter on me a week ago, confound him ! and I have not been able to get rid of it yet.” A SONG OF THE SEASON. GING a song of the first of May, Rufiled tempers and loaded van ; Everything jumbled and stowed away, ting the whim of the mover-man, Stove-pipes sooty and bent and jammed, Carpets reeking with stifling dust Just three things doth the song demand— Perseverance and hope and trust. AN EMERGENCY CASE. HE COASTED blithely on the hill, When right across his track, A harbinger of coming ill, He saw the little tack ‘That sent him flying as he took A header to the feet Of her he loved, whose scornful look He hardly cared to meet. Sing, ye scoffers, of luck and fate ! Swell the chorus, nor pause to curse! Bad as it seems, it is well to state Naught is so bad but it might be worse. Misery chuckleth in company. Watch your neighbor a while, I pray ; He's as restless as you, you see— Sing a song of the first of May. Yet quiet in the dust he lay To watch her rising frown ; Then coolly said, ‘Is ¢is the way You throw a fellow down?" Leaving the comforts and joys of home, Lowly cottage enshrined in love, Restless nomad, you yearly roam, Fly to the ills that you know not of. CHOPPING HIM OFF. Soiled Spooner (sentimentally)— WHAT CONVERTED HIM, nec ane| ler ssi Sana “Me poor old mudder ain't seen me DEACON Pristrose—"* So Jonas Bigtalk has bin baptized an’ jined , oe rom this hewse’ where: yor £0 face fer twenty years, an’ “—— de Baptist chu'ch? Why, he used toe be one ob de biggest infidels I to-day, Mfrs. Flint (earcasticallyy "Went, 38 knew." Maybe he'll move in the house you left— Bas ahaa ns Deacon Tutir—* Yais; he wuz till he found out he had heart- Sing a song of the first of May. why don’t you wash it?” ts y ROY FARRELL GREENE. THERE IS A DIFFER CE, This man in prayer can call himself all sorts of names, such, 4 nan in | 1 all sorts — but let another man call him a harsh name, he feels justified in ‘* knocking as ** hypocrite,” * wicked,” * miserable sinner,"* etc. — him into the middle of next week.” comicbooks.com