Judge — October 29, 1898 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

282 TED GRADY’S STORY. As told by Mr. MeGarvey. IDDY GRADY told th’ story t'a crowd av us at Finne- gan’s party, an’ ivery one av us wor cross-oyed whin ‘twor done, for we wor lookin’ hard at th’ b’y, an’ Oi'm thinkin’ th’ oyes av us troied t’ float down th’ noses av us, creatin’ the iffict. “ Whin yez git th’ divil av a dose av pain,” says Tid, “ ‘tis playsure, it is.’ Thin he goes on an’ tills av © th’ foirin’ av a blast at th’ quarry. Iverything wor in riddiness, an’ th’ foreman had touched th’ match. Th’ min wint at a hoigh rate av spaid t'a safe distance, some runnin’ an’ some av th’ dare-divils walkin’ Slow an’ aisy loike. Thin says he, “ Mulligan saw her th’ first. She wor liss than two rods from *th’ blast, b’hoind th’ bushes, th’ little girl av Tim Brogan, sittin’ there swait as ye plaze, makin’ mud-poies. “ Mulligan gives one snort an’ goes lapin’ back. Th’ toime wor so short it couldn't be meas- ured at all ixciptin’ by th’ holdin’ av th’ brith, an’ ‘twor haroism av th’ foinest sort in Mulligan. “He raiches her an’ grabs her up, she givin’ one startled croy — th’ last thing we hears b'fore th’ thunderin’ blast goes aff, wid th’ dust an’ th’ rocks floyin’ an’ th’ air dancin’ loike th’ draim av Sunday b’fore th’ oyes av a slaipy man. “Ab, holy mother! “We rushes forward, an’ we foinds thim, both lookin’ loike th’ did. Mulligan wor loyin’ on th’ soide av him, wid his back t’ th’ blast. Th’ little one lay in th’ shilter av his big body —thot’s th’ way they wint down. A big rock lay on Mulligan’s lig, th’ blood tricklin’ from b'naith it. "Twor a cruel big one—th’ biggest little one Oi iver saw. “ Whin th’ doctor comes he soizes thim up, an’ be says th’ choild is unhurt, only shocked, says he, but Mullig: will, he looks at th’ poor felly an’ says nothin’ s’ loud it makes th’ all av us groan. But he goes t’ work at thim, an’ soon th’ oyes av thim open—th’ blue Osraicn —" How 's that for a solar-plexus knock-out ?” LITERALLY ACCEPTED. Sanctimus (solemnly)—** Yes, the poor woman's dead. Peace to her ashes.” Fuirranricuss —'* Cremated, hey? This world or the other ?” Muze (aside)—"* Just watch me uppercut that fellow.” cones av th’ kid first, th’ gray ones av th’ man wid th’ bushes over thim nixt—an’ we gives a bit av a cheer. “Mulligan looks around dazed loike. Thin says he slow an’ achy loike, ‘ Th’ poor—little —girl!’ says he. ‘Oi done th'— bist — Oi could — but — th’ blast — goes — aff—an’ sh’—loses— her—little—lig.” “Thin he laughs gut long an’ loud, an’ they carries him off ‘on ashutter, wid th’ doctor walk- in’ b’hoind.” avin w. TaLmapor. HER ARMOR. HE soldier-boy returning home First stacks his arms away, And then bie quickly places them Around his fiancte. HIS OUTBREAK. Mrs. Hornbeak —“1 was never more mortified in my life! How could you cut up so at the church festival, Ezry— puttin’ yourself on the level with them two drummer-fellers that came over from the hotel an’ couldn't be satisfied with anything ?” Farmer Hornbeak —“\'m meek an’ long-sufferin’, an’ all that, Debby; but, after all, I'm no rabbit. I didn’t mind the overcharges an’ other outrages at the festival, when they came singly. I paid without a murmur three prices for things that I had no use for an’ didn’t even know the names of; I lied cheerfully an’ said the lemonade was real “good; I acted the brazen hypocrite an’ ap- plauded the elocutionary outbursts ; I gambled like a rake for the crazy-quilts, an’ I laughed real hearty when I paid a hard-earned quarter for the blessed privilege of drawin’ a card marked ‘April fool!’ out of the grab-bag; but they all kinder accumulated an’ piled up ‘on me towards the last, an’ when I set down to the supper-table I couldn’t resist the temp- tation to tell ‘em that I wasn't populistic enough to approve of the coinage of oyster- stews at the ratio of sixteen stews to one oyster,” A DISTINCTION. - THEY say he's right who cards eschews, That gambling is a sin ; It’s gambling only when you lose, Amusement when you win. Mute (sad/y)—'* Another case of Spanish-like over-confidence. Now I must have peace with the best terms possible.” SETTLED IN ONE ROUND, comicbooks.com