Judge — May 20, 1899 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

A LITERARY STATESMAN. FS OT every literary man is a congress- man, and by the same token not every congressman is a literary man. There is one southwestern con- gressman, yet in the thirties, who not long ago was spending the night in Washington with an agricultural-de- partment friend of his who krows much more about politics and office holding than he does about the divine afflatus, and by some chance they let their talk drift into literature. “ By the way,” said the member as the conversation moved along. “who was it wrote the poem about the boy standing on the burning deck? Wasn't that Longfellow?” * Course not,” dissented the friend. “Well, of course I don’t mean when he learned how; but didn’t he write some sort of a verse one time when he was a kid in school? Seems to me I've heard something about something of that kind, haven't 1?” “Oh, you're thinking about that one about a little girl that had a little curl that hung right down on her forehead and was torrid.” * Red-neaded, eh?” “T guess that was about the size of it Anyway, Longfellow never wrote * The boy stood on the burning deck." “ All right,” submitted the congressman; anything goes, old man, that you say. } rect if it’s all the same to you, and just to show you haven't any ill-feeling about the matter, WORLD'S FAL suppose you tell me who in thunder did write “The boy stood on the burning deck." Hose | the Berne bate dranone: “That's easy,” responded the friend ‘And we can anger Jott an ncon startling promptness. “John Hay wrote it.” we seach to grasp the * madd hand,” “ What! not the secretary of state?” ‘Across dividing waters: uphedaie” Out fondness for das faderland Embraces all its daughters! ” Aw, come off!" “True as preaching. You've heard of Little Breeches,’ haven't you? Well, that's it.” And the congressman was so astonished that he accepted it without eisine BREGE . a dissenting voice. Mrs. C1tveLatt (examining her mew country cottage)—* Why THE BETTER-HALF, Harold! how could the painter have made such a glaring error as that ? Jaggles— Marriage is the one union where’a man should never go on & Mr. CityrLatt—"‘As what? . Mas. CitvrLatt—" Why, he's gone and painted the orchard a Strike.” different shade of green than the blinds.” Waggles— we. J. LAMFTON, . If he does he'll find himself locked out by his wife.” NONE FOR SALE, STRANGER (in Georgia)—'* Know anybody round here that’s got a dog to sell?” TIvE—" Say, stranger glad my wife didn’t heah yo’ say that. She's jess that onthinking she might want me to part with one o’ them beauties faw the price of a new dress er suthii comicbooks.com