Judge — February 17, 1900 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

THY TEMPLE, BUF IN the glory of the sunbeams’ light I catch the lustre of thy tresses bright, ‘Whereis the wonder? Light wasnever shed More golden bright than gleams round thy fair head. If in the stars I see thy radiant eyes Glance down and greet me from the even- ing skies, S) What is the marvel? For thine eyes are * stars Whose happy light nor cloud nor dark- ness mars, T hear the murmur of the far-off sea On tranquil days, and straightway comes to me Thy low-toned, gentle voice repeating o'er Some tender vow I've prayed for yet once more. Dear love, some attribute of thine I find In all that's gracious, innocent and kind ; But for thy perfect image, wrought with = M love's own art, ; HARD ON GEORGE. Took within thy temple—my heart's heart! “* W'y ain't youse got no use fer Washington?” FRANCES A, SCHNEIDER, I don’t like de front part uv his name; an’, anyway, anybody w'ot displayed a fondness fer choppin’ wood at sich an early age hez my profound contempt.” HIS ADMISSION. . ST HERE is considerable doubt in my mind as to what has just happened to me,” said the philosophical person, who had been struck in the small of the back and knocked into the middle of the subsequent week and almost into kingdom come by a recklessly-managed automobile, which had run over his prostrate form in, seeming- ly, seventeen different directions and then disappeared around the corner before he could scramble to his feet and take note of its identity ; “ but, whatever it was, I am disposed to admit that it happened.” IN DAKOTA. Mrs. Jones—" What are you FOUND HIS WIND. eating, Mary?" . **T've lost my voice,” the bull remarked, “Don't worry, sir,” replied the Mary—" A piece of Nelly “In calling to my fellows.” : “TL think I've found your bellows. Black's divorce-cake.” AT BACHELOR'S HALL. aa eT NIGHT comes, a wak'ning from the . i dreams called day, And like the memory, That haunts the waking, of some dream’s brief stay, A fancy stirs in me. No passage from the tragedy of mirth, No joy with sorrows sign ; But lo, there in the nimbus of my hearth, My heart's sole valentine ! Forgot the light that lit my lady's eyes ; And was she short or tall? Was brown or gold the hue of this T prize? 1 cannot now recall, I only know — Hark ! from the dusk is blown A call that will not wait ; And in the dark'ning room I sit alone, ,~ A thankful celibate. Yet, oh, my heart, my heart, poor, fain dream-host, wish, = ipy to es rm NO MAD MARRIAGE, CONSIDERID oh aes Sranier esa wolet bet PARENT (sereaming}—'* Vat! der daughter ohf Isidore Rosenheim, der wholesale ciothier, marry a gentile?” Davcuter—'* But consider, papa. [Te is der loss-adjuster ohf der fire-insurance gompany vat has your clothing Of what can never be? stock risk on deir books.” JOHN DAML woTR, PARENT (denignantir)—"* Take him, mein sagacious leedle daughter! I can refuse you noddings.” comicbooks.com