Judge — December 3, 1898 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

UTHORS AT HOME. I was admitted and informed that I would find Mr. Howells in his dissect- ing-room. I trembled a little as I walk- ed along the dark corridor, and I even paused with my hand on the door-knob, for I had a vague horror of surgical operations. But with a sudden impulse of bravery I opened the door and the conversation. “ Good-morning, Mr. Howells,” said I, “ Will you admit an intruder?” “ Certainly, certainly !” said the great novelist.“ Come right in. I entered, shivering as I passed by case of probes and lancets, and edging carefully away from the operating-table. “Go on with your work,” I said; “I don’t want to interrupt you. What are you doing?” Mr. Howells held in one hand a small, sharp hatchet, and as I spoke he was walking toward his chopping-block. “Ob, I'm only splitting an infinitive,” he replied as his axe came down with a whizzing blow. “There!” and he picked up the two pieces and in- serted them at ei- ther end of a long paragraph. “Now, my dear sir, I will attend to your case.” And be- fore I knew it I A SOUL-SHAKER. Ernut—"' Was Jack very badly rattled when he proposed to you?" EpttH—"‘ Dear me, yes. He proposed in a cab, coming home from the opera, you know.” tle in the penetrating glare of Mr. Howells’s real- ism. “I—I—don’t—know,” I stammered, “Capital!” he cried. “ Just what I should have expected you to say with those warring elements at work.” He then tried various questions and played on certain emotions and impulses, and when, after an hour, he released me with thanks for a well-filled note-book I shook myself together and wondered who had done the interviewing, after all. CAROLYN WELLS. A NEEDED PRECAUTION. HE farmer locks his turkeys up ‘As evening’s ray declines ; For if he doesn't bolt them now He cannot when he dines. NO INCONSISTENCY. First veteran—" So Wiggins voted the Dem- ocratic ticket? And the man's a veteran! I tell you a man that was in the civil war ought to have ‘sense enough to vote as he shot.” Second veteran—" Guess you never saw Wig- gins shoot, did you? He always shuts his eyes.” DEFEAT SWALLOWED UP IN VICTORY. Mrs, SrruGcLES—" Why, husband, how you do look!” Mr. SrruGcLes—* Bother how I look, Mariar! I've learned how to ride the damned thing.” | i on Mr. Howells’s dissecting-table, \| firmly bound, and subjected to the scrutiny of his professional eye. “A | | fine specimen,” said he as he dis- sected, or rather vivisected, my mental make-up. “Good vein of originality, a strong sense of honor, and yet—an almost ungovernable impulse toward self - aggrandize- ment. Very interesting to know what the development of such a combination would lead to. 1 will experiment a bit. My dear friend, if you were riding in a railway-train and the conductor carelessly omit- ted to take your ticket, would you use that ticket on your next trip— or would you destroy it?” He watched the working of my brain with evident enjoyment. My honesty forbade my using a ticket which entitled me to a ride I had already had, and yet my common sense told me that to use it would : : in no way defraud the railroad com- A PREPARATION FOR THE WORST. % Panty at TABLE—" You see my uncle had been rather wild the most of his life, and a couple of weeks before he pany. Theoretically, 1 am an hon- died he lived on a mixture of brimstone and sulphur, and left it in his will that his shroud should be made of asbestos and est man; but theories count for lit- that a fan should be put in his coffin and that his body should be kept on ice till the last moment.” c comicbooks.com