Judge — August 23, 1902 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

A BABYOLOGICAL FACT. HE hero of this chronicle has been a proud father for about two months, albeit there are times when he is not quite as proud as he is ready to say in words. And words, too, scarcely fit for publi- cation in a family journal, more’s the pity, when we come to con- sider that it is only a dear, sweet little angel of a baby that is the cause of them. It is painful to contemplate how proud a young father is of his first-born in the day-time and how he loses all bis paternal van- ity in the night-time. This was the condition of this young father one morning about two a. m., when he was rubbing his eyes and stumbling around looking for a paregoric bottle or a club, or anything that might come handy in an emergency. His gentle wife was there, too, and it wasn’t long until she ob- served that there was a slumber- ing volcano in her husband's bo- som that was likely to wake up at any minute. “Did you know, Richard,” she said in that anxious tone a woman falls into when she wants a man to get to thinking about something else than what he is then thinking about, “that a baby does not begin to cry tears until it is three months old ?” “Ts that so?” is what he was about to say, when he butted his shin against a rocker and said something else—no matter what it was. He said it with an em- * Are yex drowndin’, Pat?” Ot can't shwim."* Pat—"Thin Jump in an’ let me shtand on yez, ye ule!” Olam. Jump in an’ pull me out." phasis, too, that caused his wite to fear the worst. «Tt will only be a month now until our darling boy will cry tears,” she continued soothingly. Where did you learn that?” he asked as he picked up a bottle. “In.a book, dear.” The baby had caught its sec- ond wind and was using every breath of it in a series of yells that would have turned a campaign procession into a side street. «What book ?” he shouted at her as he tried to get a spoon into the baby's mouth, “I forgot,” she shrieked back at him, “It wasn’t a book; it was in the evening paper.” A gleam of hope lighted his face. * Do you remember whether it said anything about there being tears enough to drown its voice ?" And dropping the bottle on to the baby and the baby into his wife's lap, he started after the paper, and the baby flourished another lung through the shadows of the night. witttast J. LAMITOX. A TART REPLY. 66 MY child,” reproved the moth- er of vinegar, « why don't you work 2” “Well; feplied the vinegar __sourly,+Thave no desire to be bot- tled up during my salad days.” The captain— Yo' {ool nig- gah! yo' done call dat safe The umpire—“ Wa-al, itham putty clus; an’ when I's in doubt Lallus gibs it to de side whad has de least runs.” MATHEMATICS. tell you, old man, {t doesn't cost any more to support two than it does one,"” ‘Then what's the matter with three ?” comicbooks.com