Judge — March 23, 1901 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

SOME IDES OF MARCH. iw like to get my summer clothes From my good uncle's care ; T'd like to climb the heights of fame, ‘ And not the garret-stair, I'd like some office from McK. With which to earn my bread ; I'd like the spring that's in the air Upon my cot instead. I'd like to know if I can doff My flannels without fear ; I'd like the editor to take The lines I ve written here. MC LANDBURGH WILSON, DESERVING OF SYM- PHONY. S}PONE any penance this IN TOPSYTURVY LAND. Lent?” “This crop of farmers is turning out pretty “My wife dragged me to well, b'gosh !" three symphony concerts.” Porato— COMPENSATIONS FOR OLD AGE. Shank— Hello! there stands old Uncle Van Fossil, our most distinguished citizen. He's one hundred and five years old. Always a rather no-account fellow till he reached his hun- dreth birthday. Since then his literary work has brought him a tine living.” O'Shawe— Literary work? What does he do?” Shank— Oh, he has a steady job writing testimonials to the various remedies that have prolonged his life.” PURE ROMANCE, Mrs, Henpeck—"1 saw a book to-day 1 thought f ‘ing . It was ‘itled * How Be Happy WHEN GABRIEL BLOWS HIS HORN. TORE | Te ene The sainted Dugan—* Why did yez throw yer golden harp down, Pat?” The sainted Flanagan—* Begorra, Moike! didn’t yez hear the whistle blow?” fiction.” Henpeck— Why, my dear, you know I never read REALISM—SHOWING HOW THE UNDERTAKER TOOK THE PRIZE. ON—" Wonder what the deuce Wasten- ink ’s sitting there for? Guess he's trying to get an et eet ae inspiration for a poem Ete y The Weeely Be By Jove Anti Wastextnk—" Nothing like communing with fifty dollars for the most realistic poem on spring ature when you want to feel the impulse of spring. Ye gods! I'll go to nature for an inspiration ang Let's see. Ah! I'll start it something like this capture the prize.” “* The air was full of springiness, The earth with life did teem. Its dreary winter's nap was o'er Tt coald no longer dream '— 8, —Hello! Is that rain? Quite providential. T'll work it in, Astonishing how nature helps one’s musings. Let's see; I left off at “It could no longer dream ‘—and— “*" The sky o'erspread with fleecy clouds, Which made it black as ink ; And when the rain came dropping down Tt made the poet think '— 5. ——My! but it’s getting chilly. Let's see— * Begin to turn to snow '—and — “+ Faster and fiercer blows the gale. Ab! truly this is spr 4, —1 ought to have brought my raglan along— ‘And many a man will get the erippe, it seems to be snowing a little. However, that's ie, some AS raters si more food for thought. “And when the rain came | dont know whether I've made that last thought dropping down it made the poet think '— clear or not. It would be bad to get spring and SEL G Ww WeSERS Dilatiee Neate We ATE grippe mixed. Gracious! I can't move my feet. When spring's soft breezes blow, Wonder if they're frozen? Glorious! Another And gentle showers from above thought— a Begin to turn to snow.’ “** The poet's feet were freezing fast, But still he staid to write While snow was drifting down his neck— Oh, what a gallant sight !""" Jounson—"' Yes, there he is, poor fellow! I thought we'd find him,” 6. MANAGING EDITOR (Weekly Bazoo)—"* Well, sir, what can I do for you?" JouNnson—"'I called to see if you found the Poem on spring available that was written by my riend Wastenink, who was frozen to death the oth- er day?” MANAGING EDITOR—"* Yes; it took the fifty- dollar prize, and I sent the money to Layemout; the undertaker, to bury him with.” comicbooks.com