Judge — April 22, 1899 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

She put her reply in “this shape because she felt a vague fear that the boy had some dark motive or purpose hidden some- where. The gentleman with the suspicious nose was interested. “And why does my little man ask such a question?” he in- quired. “Because,” replied the youngster innocently, “I want- ed to say your nose wasn’t a single bit red if somebody else vasn't going to say it pretty Later, when the boy was on his way to punishment, he stop- ped the procession long enough to ask -his mother if she would have whipped him just the same if he had told the truth about the gentleman's nose; but she refus- ed to be interviewed on the sub- ject. w. J. LAYTON, A SEQUENCE, FATE is a most mysterious thing, ; He put it to the test. ‘ He moved to Brooklyn in th A BETTER WAY. ih : aring. ya eme Mr. Beuix—" Well, wife, this beats running them down, don’t it?” Ce Ty i % And the trolley did the rest. A YOUTHFUL CASUIST. = APPARENT INEXPERIENCE. DUXBURY, Massachusetts, father has a five-year-old son who should First Chicago matron—\ pity that poor Mr. Porkington. His wife have been born before interrogation-points were invented. He also _ is such an arbitrary, self-willed creature that I believe she is making life a has a friend who has an extremely alcoholic nose, about which he is so nightmare for him, sensitive that any reference to it is followed by painful results. Recently Second Chicago matron— Yes, the conceited creature! She treats the friend with the pink proboscis called on the Duxbury father, finding him as if she had never had a husband before.” several ladies calling at the house | at the same time, the entire party being entertained by the aforesaid small boy. ‘The youngster was strangely attracted by the red nose, which gleamed in the darkened room like a beacon-light streaming o'er the wave, and he kept a close watch on it until he had an oppor- tunity to speak to his mother. “Is it wrong to tell a story, mamma?" he asked so every one could hear, just as terrible children always say things they should not say. “ Of course it is!” she exclaim- ed in a proper degree of horror. “But isn’t it right to tell one sometimes?” he persisted. she hesitated, “ pos- HOW MRS. SAWBUCK WON. sibly, if one is told to spare the A bad, wicked Indian, ‘tis said, some person, it might be Thvestenell marder unless be coc bread ‘And she put all her dough on the red. Said, ** Here goes for luck!" A YARD OF SWALLOWS.—(IWith apologies to Frank Leslie's Popular Monthly.) comicbooks.com