Judge — October 4, 1902 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

**Itain't every hoss kin BRONCO BILL'S LATEST. ——Then he went up agin you kin skin me if he throw me: but the first turn ——he got rid of me and the bridle the gate-bar and scraped didn’t kick the stabledoor and walk off with a he made— RUBAIYAT OF A MOTHER OF TWINS. LAS! that twins should not at night repose ! Would their tooth-bearing apertures but close The nurs Why , that to my succor comes at dawn, rry thus her lagging feet—who knows? T sent my maid across tlie lawn to quell Some portion of that soul-distracting yell ; And by and by my maid retuned to say Words that I may not syllable nor spell A pair of yelling twins beneath the bough ; Bottles of milk fresh gathered from the cow ; Shrill lullabies the nurse-maid sings too high— E n paradise were wilderness enow. ANCIENT HISTORY FIGHT. ANNIBAL had been trying in vain to draw out Fabius to battle. “Is there no way,” he exclaimed an- of making the man fight?” You might try asking him to arbi- suggested one of his generals, Soon after Cannal was fought and the Roman forces destroyed. gril trate HE WAS DESPERATE. RAKE had just nailed the broom to the mast-head when he was asked his reason. « Because,” he answered with a hunted look, my wife said she was going to clean house to-morrow. And silence fell upon the curious, while their hearts went out to the man who was driven to so desperate an expedient the saddle off. and— down—— Mis, THE DIFFICULTY. “What! you really don't mean you are going to write Jokes for the comic papers?” Yes: I never was more serious in my life.”” “ But can you keep it up?” bale o° hay.” THE SHOOTING SEASON. PUT my autumn flannels on, I take my top-coat out of hock I sniff the hot Scotch as I drain The stein that holds the last lush bock. T shoot” the clam, I shoot" the fizz ; I shoot" the summer beverage that I purchased when I shot the chutes, Before I shot the old straw hat. And if I go to shoot the deer Among the leaves of gold and tan, Doubtless the game I'll bag, and then T'l shoot the kind that’s in a can. A DUSTY TOWN. ss THE other day,” said Mrs. Tenspot, “I was called to the telephone and had occasion to take down an address. Having no pencil and paper handy, I wrote it with my finger in the soft-coal dust on the bil- liard-table cover.” “T wouldn't tell that, mamma, for it reflects upon your housekeeping,” protested Ethel. «It does nothing of the sort,” said Mrs. Tenspot; “for when I went back in an hour to get the address fresh soft-coal dust had entirely obliterated A WONDERFUL CHILD. BABY in Kalamazoo Remarked quite distinctly, “* Goo-goo."” "Twas explained by his ma, And likewise by his pa, That he meant to say, ** How do you do?" NO. 11.—THE WONDERFUL DOINGS OF MARVELOUS THOMAS ‘Here, ladies and gentlemen, | have drawn the picture of a rabbit who made an—— —ass of himself." comicbooks.com