Judge — September 8, 1906 — page 3: what you’re looking at

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

ACQUIRING EXPERIENCE. CHotty Dootrie—"' Mistaw Jones, |—aw—love your daughter, and she—aw—loves me, and we—aw "—— Mr. Jones—"' Take her. The experience will be worth a whole lot to her in picking out a second husband.’ AN AUTUMN NOVELETTE. THEY sat fora long time silent on the crest of a mighty hill, gazing with dreamy eyes on the vale that was spread in rich autumnal beauty before them. The smoky haze of Indian summer dimmed the scene with its delicate veil, half hiding the barbaric splendor of red, yellow and gold that draped all the forest-clad hills beyond the river. Mirage-like the roofs and spires of the city far up the river rose from the sea of beauty with which the dying foliage surrounded it, and, showing that men, as well as leaves, are mortal, the slow beat of a funeral-bell broké in at regular intervals upon the deep silence. “Lam offering all that I have, Joan," said the man at length in a strong, deep voice, with more than a hint of power and mastery in the manly tones, but still a soft and pleading intonation, in vivid con- trast to his noble bearing. He was a splendid specimen of humanity, this young farmer, supple and strong as a lion, and with a world of manhood and independence looking fearlessly out from his handsome gray eyes—a man to look up to and lean upon. +1 am offering you all I have, Joan," he repeated insistently, and then he waited with obvious anxiety for the woman to reply. She was very fair, this woman whose next words were to mean so much to the man who waited for them. Tall, and rich in sensuous grace, dark-eyed, red-lipped, and with a warm, sunny splendor about her that filled the hearts of men with longing. She was dressed in summer white, but a few narrow bands of jet showed that sadness and mourning had not as yet receded very far down the dim aisles of time. Slowly and hesitat- ingly she spoke, but there sounded still through the clear, bell-like melodi- ousness of hee voice a firmness and certainty of purpose that touched as with a hand of ice upon the heart of her com- panion. tightly as she continued —+it would be my all, too, if I were to listen to you, and oh! I have had such dreams of life—dreams that blurred my lesson-pages in the girlhood days that now seem so far away; dreams of a life different from that which I have always lived—of a life far away and amid other and brighter scenes.” “1 know it, Joan,” he answered slowly and sadly. + You have been like that from the days of your early childhood. I have always seen and recognized this phase of your character; have always seen how your strange, wild spirit strove and beat against the bars of this humdrum life that bound down its wide, strong wings to the workaday things about you ; but you have known me nearly all my days, and you know what there is to look for from me. For me, a man with a wife and eight children, forty dollars an acre is a whopping big price to pay for your farm, Joan, and eight thousand dollars a big bunch of money for a lone widow, with only one child, to live on.” A smile came to the pensive face of the woman, Then she spoke. + Make it the even fifty, Jasper, old comrade of my girlhood days, and we'll deal,” she said. + Ah, I see the answering smile of consent in your eyes, my friend of the olden time, and the bargain 's made. It’s a bunch of money for you, | know, but I'll take a mortgage for the diff., and, even so, with interest at only six per cent., I sha’n't be able to jump very high in Kalamazoo on six hundred a year.” OMA J. PARKER. AN: OPTIMISTIC THOUGHT. HEN a jealous man who doesn't amount to anything shoots somebody who doesn’t amount to anything for being too attentive to a woman who doesn’t amount to anything, why should anybody who does amount to anything get excited about it ? ITs. aching tooth, T rise to shout, AN Is just about The best thing out. “Your words are true, Jasper,” she said, “know that you speak = the truth, It is your all, I know; but "—and her hands were clinched Bor—*' Pop, what's a bachelor?" Por—"' A bachel good luck can do for an individual.’ A SHINING EXAMPLE. my son, {s a man whom nature has set up as a shining example of what Missionary — you know who I am Cannibal —«Sure! You're an edible.” comicbooks.com