Life — August 30, 1883 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

*HOW TO GET STRONG. You ToLp ME, ARTHUR, THAT YOUR DOCTOR AD- VISED YOU TO DRINK WHISKEY; HAS IT DONE YOU ANY Goon ? Wett I sHoutp say so; I Gor A BARREL OF IT TWO WEEKS AGO AND I COULD HARDLY LIFT IT, AND Now I CAN CARRY IT ABOUT THE ROOM. ee Wich our apologies to Mr. Bleikie for the title, and to the public for the English. A DISTINCTION, WITHA DIFFERENCE. ISTRESS.—* Bridget.” Br. —“ Ma'am !" Mistress—* Did you hear me ring?” Br.—‘ No Ma'am.” . Mistress.—“ How's that?” Br.—*I didn't hear you ring ma'am, but [ heard the bell ring, ma’am.” Mistress.—“ And why did you not answer it?” Br— Sure, ma'am, I was just afther opening the front door for a man, to see the masther.”” Mistress.—“ What man ?" Br— The man what dined wid yez last night, ma’am, An’ who did I see goin’ down the basement stips, but the gintleman for the swill. Shure, onless I cut misilf in two, I can’t be in three places at oncet, ma‘am.” TRIALS OF A MT. DESERTER. INTERCEPTED LETTER NO. 3. Bar Harsor, Me. Aue. 25th, '83. EAREST, DARLING MAMIE :—I have had such distressing headaches since you left that I know you won't scold me for not writing. Lurlie ar- tived Monday morning just a half hour after you left, and I went down with Mr. Rathbone to meet her. I had so raved over Lurlie to Mr. Rathbone, that of course he felt bound to say he thought her the most Titianesque and rapturously Southron looking girl he had seen this summer, just as if / didn’t know he could n't mean that, when Lurlie has red hair just as plain as the nose on her face, and that is pretty plain— isn’t it, Mame, dear? But of course she can’t help it, and is the sweetest, darlingest friend I have in the world, although I do wish she wouldn't wear short sleeves until that cod liver oil works on her arms— don't you, Mame? I saw Arch—Mr. Ten Broeck, I mean—yesterday. He came up to speak to Lurlie and me, and we both congratulated him Acartily on his engagement. He pretended not to know what we were talking of, and said we mustn't believe half we hear. I replied that I never did—zwhen he was talking. Was n’t that good? What Carrie Van Salmon can see in him, 7 can’t conceive. I used to like him—as a Sriend, of course—but mama says the Ten Broecks are so poor now that they have to sponge for hay for their horses off their aunt's farm in Westchester county, and papa heard on the street over a month ago that John ‘Ten Broeck had to get Mrs. De Wolfe to endorse a note for him before he could lease the cottage up here. Besides that, Archie is awfully dissipated. Mrs. Bliss says she £nows her nephew George paid him 65 cents on a poker debt last week, and old Miss Peplow told mama last night that on the very night Archie's en- gagement to Carrie was told her, she could smell cloves on his breath just as plain as could be. Poor Carrie! I pity her if she marries him—do n't you, Mame ? Yesterday Mr. Rathbone rowed me to the Bald Por- cupine. He said he would like to have paddled me over, but would not think of risking my life for an idle pleasure, but would rather sacrifice his own to purchase one smile. Wasn't that sweet? We pulled up the boat on the beach and climbed the little hill, and then I sat down on a flat rock with my red_para- sol, and he stretched himself at my feet and said that that was the nearest spot to heaven he had ever known, and when he looked up with those great, splendid, Southron eyes of his, I was almost /rightened, I was so happy. Then he read Aux /taltens to me, and O, Mame, when he came to those heart-breaking lines— ** T thought of our little quarrels and strife, And the letter which brought me back my ring ; And it all seemed then, in the waste of life, Such a very little thing "-— his voice trembled, and his far-off, dreamy eyes filled with tears, and I was wild to tell him how awfully sorry I was he should have been so dreadfully treated by any girl—but of course I didn’t. Then he stopped comicbooks.com