Judge — December 23, 1905 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

BUT HE DID. 1, **"Tain't no use tryin’ ter sabe no one in dis laik, no how, ‘cause when dey goes down dey neber-— HER INVITATION. HE new rector was receiving a call from one of his most influential parishion- ers, when little Hildred came inte the room, The visitor made friends with the child until her father said playfully, “+ Hildred, can't you coax the gentle- man to stay and take tea with us?” “We'd like to have you stay," the little girl, “though I'm afraid there won't be chocolate-cake enough to go round ; but there’s ginger cookies "—— “Then this will be a good time to show our hospitality,” interposed the rec- tor hastily. ++ We can share with our guest, can't we? Hildred grew sober. + Ye-es,” she hesitated ; suppose so." OBEYING ORDERS. Fortune—« What's the matter, dear? You look excited. Mrs, Fortune—« Excited! Why shouldn't 1? The new chambermaid com- 2 plained of a headache, so I sent her up stairs and told her to take things easy. She did. She's gone off with BALLADE OF CHRISTMAS TURKEY. FROM Gotham town to the Golden Gate, From Niagara's span, ‘The festive +g begilds the plate And joy prevails in the heart of man, Hark to the drumstick’s rataplan! Handle your weapons and fall to work Let Discord die in her stewing-pan— This is the day for our Christmas © turk Smoke from the battle of recent date ‘ween Democrat and Repub is with the chap who je Sam is wearing a bra New smile where peace doth benignly lurk. “There's joy in the broad, terrestrial plan— This is the day for our Christmas “turk.” ‘The peerless bird is Laid out in state, Fairer, I trow, than the lyric swan. There's applejack—you can take it st Crushed from the grape by fabled pipes 3? Here is ne u Kings in vain the hor Th search ce amid clouds and murk ; But here ¢: ‘This is the day for our Christm —comes up!" AN EXTRAORDINARY COW. all of my jewelry.” SCY JJHEN we go to live in the country, James, we must buy an ex- NO MATTER. traordinary cow Christian-science mother —« What is the matier, Dorothy 2” An extraordinary cow? What for?” Christian-science child—" Why, mamma, you know there isn’t The doctor says that baby mustn't be fed on ordinary cow's any matter!" milk.” DARBY’S SALTED CLAIM. ORK," Ben Darby used t isa useless, fuolish art; It siles the hands, wears out the clothes, an’ breaks yer back an’ heart. The same it a lyin’, though.” would interpase ol” Ben, “To workin’ of yer noddle fer to work yer feller-men, I hev noticed,” he would argue, ‘thet the men as has the dough Air the men as didn’t earn it; an’ thet air bein’ so, I'm goin’ fer to figger to let others make the An’ T'll set back here in the shade an’ gently rake it in.” So, pursuin’ of these tactics, he sauntered out one day a wild an’ lonely canyon a dozen miles away An’ staked a claim, a-claimin’ thet he'd struck the yellow stufi— An’ in the sand o' thet air claim ‘twas shinin’, sure enough. We know'd the claim was salted jest as well as though we'd bin Out thar the day he sowed the stuff an’ harrowed of it in ; But etiquette in Bullfrog, it sort o” presupposed "Twas business—an’ ‘twas safer—to keep yer clap-trap closed. A tenderfoot hopped into town one sunny April morn A-lookin’ fer investment, an’, as sure as ye war born, OF Darby up an’ cinched him with thet pesky, salted claim, Aw’ pulled two thousand dollars from the sucker fer the same, He hurried back to Bullfrog, tickled jest alout to death— Lined up the whole caboodle of the gang to change the breath. “The chaps as do the diggin’ git experience," he said; “But he who works his think-tank usually comes out ahead, Waral, thet sucker went to diggin’, In thirty days, b'jing! He'd cleaned up twenty thousand skids, an’ then he sold the thing. An‘ what ye s'pose it fetched him? Half a million plunks, by smoke ! The very day he got ‘em smarty Darby he went broke. When we told ol Ben he wilted ; his jaw dropped half a mile; He couldn't rig his features so thet they would hold a smil An’ now, ef ye air wishin’ fer to give ol’ Ben a pain, Jest sidle up an’ ax him ef he’s workin’ of his brai ANTHUK J. BURDICK. comicbooks.com