Judge — October 8, 1910 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

WHERE THE BLACK HAND FLOURISHES Yo doubt about it," 1 agreed. ‘What happened then?” “Th’ gun wint off accidental,” Flynn. “And killed the buck,’’ I suggested. “Wr-rong,”’ returned Flynn. ‘It winged Mike. Wasn't I tellin’ ye this was a har-rd- luck tale? Mike got th’ bullet in his le an’ th’ buck give him a rip in th’ side with his horns, an’ it was only be luck that Mike stuck a knife in his thront before he was thrampled to death. “That certainly was hard luck,’” I explained agreed. “Wan minute," cautioned Flynn. ‘I ain't told th’ all Th him to th’ hospittle an’ harpooned f'r th’ bullet, an’ sewed up th’ side that was tore open, an’ cut open th’ other side, an’ used him gin’rally f'r a surgi- cal experimint station—an’ th’ Swedes et th’ buck.” “That was the limit of misfortune,” I declared. “Was it now?" remarked Flynn. “Wait till ye hear th’ finish. That's whin T come up to see him, He was wr- rapped up like a set iv chiny that has to be paided to keep it fr'm br reakin’, th’ doc- thors havin’ put him up in a big packag: whin they got tired playin’ with hi There he was, a wr-reek iv a good man, th th’ Swede sheriff sittin’ be th’ bed.” “What was that for?" I asked. “To take him to jail f'r vi'latin’ th’ game laws as soon as he c'u'd be moved. An’ him a law-abidin’ man that was led into wr-rong ag"in’ his will be a wicked ol’ buck! C'n ye match it f'¢ har-rd luck I could not. Putting Him on His Mettle. se HE DOCTOR ss: hour to live."* you have but an me pen and paper,” said the dying man feebly “To make your will?’ “No; Iam going to give the doctor my note for thirty days. He will have to ke me alive at least that long to collect at The Sad Result. JUDGE The Republican Textbook. By MeLANDBURGH WILSON HE HERO is the very best We ever saw, A man of deeds and fine and brave, Without a flaw, The villain is of blackest dye, No virtues glea A wrecker of prosperity, Naught to redeem. The heroine, quite passive, seems ‘A rose to pick, For Miss Columbia just lets The plot grow thick. Beside this no: of real life, So hard to beat, The six best sellers have to take A ‘way back seat. The Past. by ELLIS 0. JoNeS F ONE is in a reverent mood, it may be just as well to reverence the past as anything else, From a practical standpoint, however, the past, as an object of reverence, presents a number of formidable obstacles. ‘The most important of these obstacles is that the past is not exclusive enough. It goes back too far, We can negotiate the matter of a century or two with comparative ease, but beyond that we have to strain. The mist grows more impenetrable. The picture becomes blurred. It is all very well IF vou want TO co AHEAD. wa for us to continue todo as our fathers did. We can keep right on at that forever, omit- ting, of course, such things as slave-hold- ing and witch-burning. But the maddest of genealogists would not dare to advocate a return to the laws, by-laws, rules, regula- é. FIRE REPORT. tions, customs, and statutes of our most highly respected and eminently capable fore- fathers of the stone age. In dealing with the past, therefore, we must bear in mind that, in addition to the good old days of yore, there were also the bad old days of long agone. Studies in Color. ‘OW IS it, did you ever think, That a white carnation is a pink? And I have often heard it said That a black-and-white paper is some- times read. It is recorded--'tis probably true— That the native red man is often blue. Kid Question No. 11,252. Johuny—" Par” Father—" Well dohnny—"Do you laugh in your sleeve ‘cause that’s where your funny bone is?” HE. poor and forlorn old maid, Whose heart just yearns for affection. Doesn’t-understand evolution, For she’s no man’s natural selection. HE WENT to a beauty specialist And got a pair of dimples. Alas, for such a nature fake! At forty, they were wrinkles! FOR AN EMERGENCY d—"* What be yer sighin’ about, Marthie?” I'm wonderin’ what I kin patch yer trousers with."* “* What 's the matter with this door-mat, maw ?"" comichooks.celim