Judge — June 17, 1899 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

in’, Missis Finnegan comes to the door after a toime. “Terry,” says she, “yez be a lawyer. Till me,” says she, “whin a man makes no will who is it gets the property av him?" “The lawyers,” says Terry, quick as a floy kicks. “Will thin,” says she, “the owld man bein’ gone, i'm thinkin’ ‘tis toime to do somethin’ or other at the will av him.” 2” says Terry, broight as a rain-drop. Yis," says she, “and the only thing he’s lavin’ thot is not absoorbed by other intrusts,” says she, spakin’ loike she ates hot pancakes, “do be his granddaughter Moll Molly blushes, and Photo. by Bushnell, Terry's not thinkin’ what Jus : febbaans to say for a bit, and, thin Port—" I have a poem here, sir, entitled * Poetry." Jn Ciileess raged, ta Frosch caistlon, Missis Finnegan ‘$ gone. Eprror ate bowty featltes ‘Poetry,’ ch? Why don’t you write Chinese weaned | “Twor all over ina minute, something about something you know something about ? In each you sirike a ote that gives the notion and they'd swore to marry Gang may eftace the other, et all way, thray wakes Sunday, and Terry goes his way. Whin he gets out av soight av the house he stops and smashes his hat onty the pavemint. Moy, he wor thot mad! And thot’s one toime, me b’y, a lawyer gets more from an istate than he's wantin’; but ‘twor not bad, alter all. Molly ‘s the good woife to him and the QUERY. THE ENGAGEMENT OF TERRY MURPHY. » — lovin’ mother to his kids, but he's Kelated by Mr. MeGarvey. = = , not so happy. Oi'm thinkin’, as if he'd waited till he wor riddy. OF'll be tillin’ yez some day how ‘Terry gets aven wid the owld lady. Shure, ‘tis good to think av whin yez be falin’ curdled loike in moind, and the grass and the trays looks liss grane than they're lookin’, and the skoy “s dark wid clouds thot are not there at all. pavio u. ratmance. HERE'S but one thing to get the bittcr av a lawyer, and thot's a woman, Vap Finnegan doies very young in the sicond choildhood av him, and Terry Murphy, him thot's workin’ in a lawyer's office, looks down on the remains av the owld felly and says wid a voice thot quavers, “The good doies young.” Shure, Terry Murphy 's the broight lad wid all av his future be- fore him, which is the foine place to be havin’ it, and he has no intintion THE FISHERMAN. W Ho is it wittra funeral tread ettin’ married thin, though he’s swate on Molly Finnegan widout manin’ anything by it. Comes slowly home and goes to bed. And utters what is best unsaid? "Tis he who, eating but a bun, iSelect wea le UIRR. (tho és stuck im the mud)—"* OWI bet ye the drinks, Dufly, as fished since early rose the sun rom ie Cnet TY, ie Sea ee up the end av me cart six inches.” And after all caught nary one. y sets on the front stips, koind av ‘Olt go yes.” aich other but not spak- . Durry—"' Go ahead, McGuire ; Oi've lifted yer cart more than six inches ” 8. McGuine—"' So ye did, Duffy ; but you're shtuck at that,” STUCK FOR THE DRINKS. comicbooks.com