Life — July 5, 1883 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

Jury 3>—PREPARATION. Jury 4mH—CELEBRATION, YOUNG PATRIOTS. JuLy stH— MEDITATION, The mother of George was accustomed to send him to the store to buy small articles, snuff, needles, or even infrequent sticks of candy. On such occasions she wrapped the needed coin ina bit of paper for safety’s sake. The scheme of villainy begins to unfold. The youthful counterfeiters selected a round, smooth bit of tin. They polished and scoured it, until, as they thought, in their youth and inexperience, it would deceive even so smart a man as a bank cashier. ‘This, being duly wrapped in a piece of paper, they took to the storekeeper. Raising themselves on tiptoe before the counter, they asked the storekeeper how much he wanted for one cocoa-nut; not that they did not know, but it might disarm suspicion if they made a little conversation before attempting the robbery. The surly storekeeper replied, “ Fourpence!" Whereupon, George, as if sur- prised at the high price of the coveted fruit, asked if he would take no less. Failing to get an abatement, he handed up the tin fourpence, seized the cocoa-nut. Then the two malefactors fled. The storekeeper, marvelling at the precipitate exit of the youngsters, opened the paper, and when he saw what was within, he uttered a howl. He had been done by two children. The young gentlemen, in their wild flight to the nearest hay-mow, had crossed the street and were turning the corner out of sight, when George felt something crawl into the collar of his jacket. It was a man’s hand. Just then, the awful voice of the store- keeper roared, “ Here, you little Puppy, what kind of a dog are you!” It was an incomprehensible proposi- tion ; but it sufficed for George. He dropped the cocoa-nut, and, availing himself of his pursuer’s stooping to pick it up, he cut up the hill and never stayed his flight until he was safe in his father’s barn. Meanwhile, Bill Booden, like a coward as he was, had fled in the opposite direction. The wrathful store- keeper picked up the cocoa-nut, wiped it with his sleeve, and, labelling it “Slightly damaged, six cents,” put it in his window. It is not necessary to trace all of the subsequent steps in crime which George Washington Murch took In the course of human events, he came to New York. Now he is the president of a New Jersey Savings Bank, and, if he does n’t get found out, he will go to Congress. Perhaps he may even hope to be Secretary of the Navy, or a star route contractor. Morat.—The moral of this story is obvious. SWAN-SONG. BY AN OLD BIRD, Bev: dost thou hope to win her? Cease thy sighing ! Eat a good hearty dinner, Love defying ! Let all thy thought to-night of her go free, To-morrow all her thoughts shall turn to thee ! Man, dost thou hope to hold her? No more kneeling ! Shrug thy derisive shoulder, Prove unfeeling ! So, as she deems thy passion doth decay, Her love for thee shall strengthen day by day. T. R. Sutttvan, comicbooks.co