Judge — July 15, 1899 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

guished mind that she would put on her wraps and go ‘out in the warring winds and the downpour of hail. She would feel the rain beat upon her face and the sleet- burdened winds en- velop her in their furious embrace. It would ease the strife within her bosom to go on, on forever, through the storm until her tir- ed body made her senses numb and the consciousness of the mental an- guish she was en- during would be blunted in the wea- riness of her tired s limbs. ON THE HONEYMOON. In fancy she KIDE—"* So you didn’t feel quite sure of me until just before the felt. the cold drops ceremony beating he Ti: Gkoom—"* No, darling. I never thought of looking up your dad vere say ef in Hradstreet’s till an hour before the knot was tied.” fevered forehead, THE REAL THING. Mr. STOCKANDBOND (tho has been playing the bear market in Wall street)—" By heavens! I think the brute recognizes me.” Another swirling, surging rain-wave dashed up against the pane, breaking in countless rivulets upon . . . « She decided not to go out. She had suf- ficient intelligence to make her fully realize the ad- vantages of remaining indoors when the clements combine to deluge the earth with a continuous downpour of atmospheric, globular drops. KATH MASTERION, AS A PRECAUTION. ry man should learn to swim.” COSMOPOLITAN NOTE. He never knows when. The morning * roll-call.” HER DECISION. HE pressed her face to the pane against which the rain’ beat fiercely. The wind howled in a fury, and with each blast a great gust of rain and sleet broke upon the pol- ished glass with such force that it seemed as though it would burst in upon the lace draperies and the warmth and comfort of the room within, The tempest was like a balm to her soul; for within her breast raged a storm of passion, hate and wounded pride—the suffering that comes to a woman scorned, rejected, deserted for a rival. ‘The letter which she held crushed in her quivering : ; hands had told her this bitterest truth that FOR DEN SASS 4 ‘a womaii can‘ever leara: FARMER Soin’ ter git much ‘ garden-sass’ this season, Silas?” 7 Farmer MrRoOT—"' T reckon yes. Ever since Rube ‘s got back from Princeton I git nuthin’ else all the The thought flashed over her an- time he's hoein’. comicbooks.com