Judge — November 26, 1898 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

AUTHORS AT HOME, WET WAS a fine, sunny, country kind of day when I went to call on Miss Mary Wilkins. In answer to my ring at the front- 0 door bell a maid replied, "Yes, sir; she’s to hum, but she won't see nobody. | |) She's writin’.” “I'm a reporter,” said I impressively, “and I must see her. I'll go to her study.” “ Law, sir, she ain't got no study; she writes out yonder in the medder-lot.”” I trudged. across the fields to the “ medder-lot ” and dis- covered Miss Wilkins seated on the stump of an old apple- tree, her typewriter on ber lap, “Let down the bars and come in,” she called out cor- dially ; and I did so, much pleased with her amiable reception. I sat down on another stump and took out my note-book. First I drew a picture of her—for I'm something of an artist—and she looked very picturesque in her calico dress and checked apron. A pink sun-bonnet rested lightly on her golden curls, and a cow came up behind her and lovingly rested its head on her shoulder. Miss Wilkins grasped the creature tenderly by one horn and said, “This is my pet, Toodles”; and Toodles lowed politely. “Why, how do you do, Mr. Heavywait? You're looking great, sir—great " “And what are the paper dolls for?” said 1; for all round on the “Thanks, You look good.” grass were puppets cut from old fashion-plates or illustrated newspapers. ‘ ‘ “These are my characters,” explained Miss Wilkins. “When they “Oh, I don’t have plots,” said she smiling. “I just change the posi- are thus laid out before me I seem to see the people and know just what tions of the paper dolls and begin another story.” they would do under given circumstances.” “And your local color?” “ And how do you get your plots?” “ My palette is always spread,” she replied, waving her hand toward the green fields and blue sky. “ And your emotions and ideals?” I persisted. Are all tucked away in my own heart," she said sweetly; “so you see, with everything at hand, it is no trouble to write.” And the merry little lady nodded politely and returned to her typewriting; while I, perceiving the interview was at an end, vaulted the fence and went home. carouv weuis THANKSGIVING, 1898, NOW the nation unites in thanksgiving For battles on hill-side and main ; And the stuffing we have for our turkeys Is what we have knocked out of Spain. REMARK OF A BRUTE. ¢¢LJERE is an article headed ‘ From war to wedlock,’ said Mrs. Tiff as she looked over the newspaper. “That is an alliterative title.” “Yes,” added Mr. Tiff; “‘allitera- 1, YA tive, but tautological.” f “ity THE POLITICIAN. Ue TZ HE SHAPES Thanksgiving to his ends; He's glad or he's dejected, Just as it happens ; all depends On whether he’s elected. whee Tue rox—"‘ Just my luck, I might have known that that nigger would get here first.” A great prize-fight. 2. OVER THE TICKER. ~ comicbooks.com