Judge — December 17, 1898 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

THE ProrEsson—' The older I get the more I'm convinshed that thish earth is a nebulous mass thrown off by # revolving planet and is shwirling roun’ in shpace at a (hic) fearful rate.” BY MATERNAL ORDERS. AT GRANDPA'S gift, a new squirt-gun, Wee Willie felt quite hurt— With water, water everywhere, And_not'gae drop to squirt. THE ETERNAL FITNESS. De Garry—" 1 once heard of a Boston girl who found a close-roller umbrella in her Christ- mas-stocking.” Madge—" How did she come to get that?” “It was about the only thing FIRESIDE FANCIES. ERE, hand in hand, we sit to-night, Flushed in the logwood's ruddy light, ‘While red coals glow and blue flames leap ‘And hot sap sings and crickets cheep. Outside we hear the wild winds call And dowg, the pane see snowflakes fall, While winter, like a hungry hound, Haunts over hills with bay and bound. A palace in the brilliant fires Rears garnet walls and golden spires, And many a labyrinthine maze Bedecked with opal hearts ablaze. The smoke, an azure banner, curls O’er halls of rubies and of pearls; Blue sapphire turrets flame and flare, ‘And jasper columns glow and glare. Here, hand in hand, my love and 1 List to the wild winds whistling by: We hear the sap sing, crickets cheep, ‘And see the lithe blue blazes leap. And thep, as chill winds whistle on, We talk of youthful days long gone; Of love that laughed through summer days, Then left us treading thorny ways. To-night our hearts, like brands aglow, Are burning in a world of snow ; For in your love is summer peace And summer joys that never cease. I kiss you, take your hand in mine, And feel my sordid soul divine. Let earthly wealth and glory be, But leave you, precious, still with me. So here we sit, still hand in hand, ‘And tread a wondrous fairy-land— ‘The kingdom of a lover's dreams, With bloomy woods and murmuring streams. Still let the wild winds shriek and shout, Still set the flying snows to rout; T care not where my feet may be When God has put you, love, with me. WALTER MALONE. NO NEED TO GUESS. . SAFTER Christmas, what?” exclaimed Mrs. Cawker with a look into the future. “Economy,” replied Mr. Cawker sententiously. A LAME EXCUSE. Cobwigger— How did that Christmas-tree get up- sev?” Freddie— \t was your fault, pa. You hung all the good things out of reach and made it top-heavy.” UNIQUE. Editor—"\ flatter myself that I have got out an entirely original Christ- mas number.” Publisher—" How so?” Editor—"\ haven't printed a sin- gle article beginning, ‘‘Twas Christ- LOVE IS A FEARFUL THING. “If you please, sir, none uv us ain’t able ter sleep uv a night, an’ we want ter know if yer ain't got suthin’ The innocent cause, who is paying a w'ot'll cure us, an’ we can't tell w'ot's de matter wid us.” visit to friends in the village. comicbooks.com