Judge — December 29, 1900 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

POLITICAL WIRE-PULLERS. Mus, Urrertex —'* How polite you are to your cook !” Mes. Wavaag “Yes; her sister’s beau's cousi wife's uncle's step-father’s son-in-law a job on the police-force.” MR. McGARVEY ?T IS DIPPIN’ a bit inty philosophy Oi am lately. “Tis one av the ter- rible ifficts av the grip in me systim. Oi can’t hilp it, i sits down innocint as a lamb at play, and the first thing Oi don’t know Oi’m thinkin’ woise thoughts and springin’ the same on me woife. Thin she shakes her hid, lookin’ moighty solemn, and says, “Ah, Pat, ‘tis glad Oi am the disase didn’t go to the brain av yez!" and Oi'm kickin’ the dog in me aggravation at the sarcasm av her. Last noight wor the most re- cint toime it’s happined. 1 wor vhoile Oi sits boi the foire toastin’ the goose-pimples on me lift lig, thot Oi wor gittin’ old. "Tis a sad thought, thot, for a man at any age av loife; and Oi wor feelin’ consequintly sad, whin me philosophy all av a suddin comes bubblin’ to the surfice and saves me from suicidin’ roight thin and there. “Alter all,” says Oi aloud, so thot me woife can hear me think, “aman ‘s only as old as he’s feel- in’, whoile a woman ’s as old as she looks.” “Is thot so?” says me wolfe, wid the accint on all three words. * How old, thin, wor yez whin Oi asked yez to hilp me in wid the washin’ befoor supper 2” * No older than yez looked, me dear, whin Oi told yez Oi wor too toired intoirely.” Me woife snorted plisintly, but sid nothin’, and Oi continued me reflictions. * Old age is nothin’ more nor liss than what a man thinks he's got whin he's lived A TERRIBLE FATE, Mr. Ht BAUut (tho Aas been celebrating Christmas evey—"* 1 (hic) tell you—it's (hic) awful to be losht in woodsh.” 's wife's uncle is a member of Tammany, and John wants her influence to try and get his brother's CN OLD AGE. a number av years, whither he has it or not. "Tis but another case av be- lievin’ iverything in the newspapers, and ‘tis a humbug. Many the man wid sixty years behoind av him outlives the frolicsome young buck av only eight-and-twinty summers. Yez can’t git around thot, for ‘tis the moighty truth. And many the woman av fifty long, hard years goes did whoile the grandmother av her's still young and frish. ez can’t git around thot either, for yez don't want to, What, thin, is our conclusion? ‘Tis this— thot old age is as much a disase av infancy as av any other state, and "— “Are yez makin’ fun av me poor old grandmother, Patr-rick McGar-rvey 2" says me woife, swingin’ up to me loike a boy grabbin’ for an apple. Whoy, no,” says Oi; “ yez ben't did yit, me dear.” Oirather guisses not !" says she. And thin, boi the raim'ry av good Saint Moike, she gives me proof av it! ‘Tis long since Oi've seen her look so young as she did thin, wid the flashin’ in her oyes and the rid in her checks. "Twor foine! Oi gits up loike a by and gallops about in the real old-fashioned way, foive years droppin’ from me at ivery jump. And whin ‘twor all over — yez may belave it or not—we wor but little older than whin we trod the shamrocks in county Clare long years ago. DAVID M. TALMADGE, LOVE is the virtue of a woman, the vice of a man. “HOOKS AND EYES,” comicbooks.com