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' """f JyY
It mite of cost 50 dollars, and the
.wife was fat and harty and had on
good clothes, likewise the baby
' all three of them was bellerin
and bawfin till their fancy togs
seemed like to get spilled with
the judge he was wise, he had
' seen them kind before, he sees to
the feller, where did you get that
i don't know, the gurgler an
sers where did you get the silver
"spoons for witch pawn tickits was
" found in your pockits, the judge
. they is sooveniers of a- trip me
and the wife took to yoorup, the
i gess the burglin bisniss is "bet
ter than you made me think it
was, ses mister shane, i leave you
to the judge, and may he have
mersy on your midzerable sole,
you have deseaved me wickidly
with your tail of starvashin
well, well, ses the judge, so this
feller is not only a gurgler but he
deseaves people that trusts him,
put him in the jug and give the
grand joory a crack at him
and thats where he is, the base
GEORGE 'OMER RECITES POETRY FROM ASHCAN AND
SINGS A LITTLE SONG FOR HIMES
As Judge Himes approached
- the Maxwell street municipal
3 court this morning, he heard a
. raucous voice, lifted in song,
i within :
''Will you walk a little faster?"
Said the whiting to the snail,
, "There's a tortoise just be'ind us,
( And. 'e's treadin' on my tail'
a Judge Himes stopped and turn
r.ed to a court attache.
; "Do you hear it, too?" he in-
quired. The officer did. Himes
. entered the court room wearing
2 his trouble look. The voice came
from a long, lean, lank person,
with a face like unto a ship's lan
tern, and remarkable eyes that
had an unquiet habit of looking
around corners. He was lolling
in the prisoners' dock.
"Order!" yelled Himes.
"Thank you," said the singer,
sitting up. "Mine'll be thet same
again 'ot rum with a little'sugar
"It'll "be about 90 days if you're
not careful," said"Himes. "What
d'you say your name was ?"
"I didn't," said the lanky one.
Then, as he cought the look in
Judge Himes' eye, he added hast
ily: "But I will. It's 'Omer,
George 'Omer. H-o-m-e-r,
'Omer I'm a descendant o' the
great Greek poet. Only we ain't
on speakin' terms."
"Is that so? Stand up, Mr.
Homer, and let's have a look at
you. Officer, where did you get
"He was standing on an ashcan
on Halsted street, at midnight,
recitin' poetry," explained the of
ficer. "That comes o' my h'illustrious .
h'ancestry," murmured Mr. Hom
er in a stage whisper.