Judge — December 27, 1913 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

ON THE ELEVATED Guard—What station do ou want, friend ? Reveler—Wha’ s’ashuns have y’ got? ‘It is, is it?’ T repeats. ‘An’ how are you goin’ about it?’ I sez to him. ‘m goin’ to give up all other conse- crasshun for a time,’ he sez, ‘an’ conse- crate entirely on you.’ An’ then he sez, grand as a lord, ‘In the end you will do everything I wish, an’ you'll be happy. My slightest desire,’ sez he, ‘it will be your greatest pleasure to obey.’ “Oh, it will, will it?’ I sez, an’ I could hear my mind fairly buzz, it was so anxious to begin consecratin’ on him. “Then we began, your honor. When- ever he come into the house, he'd fix me with them gimlet eyes o’ his’n, an’ I'd fix hira with mine, an’ we'd consecrate until my head almost busted. After sup- per we'd consecrate until bedtime, an’ once I opened my eyes to find that Josiah was consecratin’ me in my sleep. The end of it all came on the washday before Christmas, your honor, when it wasn’t fair to take advantage of me, because I had a big wash. I was weaker'n usual that day, an’ all at once Josiah come into the kitchen, walks straight up to me, takes me firmly by my front hair, turns up my head, gimlets me with his eyes, an’ sez, deep an’ ghost-like, ‘Maria Hoch- rattle, I pernounces you consecrated—I pernounces your mind under power o’ my mind—I pernounces you from this day forrard, forever and ever’ —— “An’ all the time, your honor, his grip was growin’ tighter, an’ I could hear my front hair rippin’. I could have stood that, mebby, but when he tells me I'm consecrated forever an’ ever, I coulda’t stand it any longer, an’ I gave him a biff as hard as brass tacks. that sent him over agin the red-hot stove. Then I makes a grab for him, an’ I sez, sez I, ‘I'm consecrated, am 12) My mind is under power o’ your mind, is it?’— sayin’ which, I jams him down in a tub of b’ilin’ hot water an’ holds him 4J¢;,° there until he begins to peel. Then I letsup,mer- ciful-like, an’ he comes at NY me with a yell an’ lands [7 mY into my hair with both = hands—an’ you can see the bunch he left, your honor, ain’t bigger’na nut. You could make two switches of what he pulled out in the next two minnits, an’ I'd 'a’ been bald if my hand hadn't come in contact with a fryin’ pan, with which I gave him a belt that put him to the floor. I follers him up with a pan of dishes, an’ then he jumps up out of the mess like a wildcat an’ comes for what little hair I've got left. “**You’re consecrated!” he yells, mad- like, an’ spittin’ soapsuds from his mouth. *You’re consecrated, I tell you!’—an’ rip! comes another bunch of hair. “Am 1?’ I retorts, an’ I welts him over the head with a rolling pin, an’ you'd 'a’ knowed he hadn’t any brains by the sound his head made. ‘Am 1?’ I repeats, biffin’ him agin, an’ we goes down together in an offul mess. We gets up together, an’ mebby we'd ’a’ stopped pretty soon, but he gits a good hold of both my ears, an’ A GOOD BOY'S MEMORY ‘The little red schoolhouse when you thought you were late, comicbooks.com