Judge, 1883-10-13 · page 10 of 16
Judge — October 13, 1883 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The main cartoon satirizes pretentious European aristocrats visiting Long Branch, New Jersey. A fake English "lord" so poor he cannot pay his laundry bill attempts to offer his laundress an old family heirloom instead of money. A blunt Jersey constable mocks his claim that the amulet descended from "old kings," suggesting the supposed noble lineage is fraudulent. The joke: American social climbers and fake European nobility are exposed as worthless when confronted with ordinary financial obligations. The accompanying poem "The Siren's Wedding Ring" appears to be sentimental verse about a maiden who spurns suitors by showing them a magical ring in the river—likely unrelated satirical content typical of Judge's mixed editorial approach. The satire targets both pretentious fake nobility and the American tendency to fawn over dubious foreign titles.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
a aS “ May Tsay, Mrs. Ry finest looking corpse 1x “ You've a sweet spot in your heart, Mr. ever seen.” Summer Nobility. TALK of nobles, blue bloods, and every other type of self-s ristocracy—well, Long Branch took the ‘ watermelon,” as the coons say, for their “distinguished presence” the past season. Why, they were so plenty there that even the most careful chiropodist, mean- dering about the beach or hotel piagzas, could avoid the treading on their : cratic corns. At one special hotel in ron, there was a “genuine” English lord, but only the Lord knows how he ever be- came a lord; however, carried this title about with as apparent case asa jolly Teuton often does a half brewing of lager. Every one of the guests fawned on or about hit in short, life was as sweet as a roseleaf to his lordship until on 1 day he was rudely ac- costed by a Jersey constable with a bill from his impatient laundri one a cruel plebeian, whose wnappreciative hands and washboard had already rubbed out his blue-ink coat-of-arms from the spinal col- umns of his solitary white shirt, now in cus- tody of the const “Look a-here!” cried out the latter, gi bing the “lord” who trembled like a potato rind stirred by the earthquakic sneeze of a passing cartman it reclines in the mo- saic confines of a garbage barrel—“ if you FRIENDLY SYMPATILY i i) re, that your hushand Daniel makes the don’t settle at once for the washing shirt, I'leoop von in. quicker'n a w resiiirtche mol, the poor obility then ran his royal paw into luroy. frousers’ pocket and slowly wht up from thence what apparently | seemed to ancient. quid of tobace “There,” said his lordship with stu athos—three of his front teeth havi nocked out by reason of hiss at another hotel—“sirrah, instead o money, ac aw-pwesent to-aw m) laundw iceless little amulet which-aw-descended to me fwom a long line of my relations-aw,—old kings, you know- | “Old kings be scratched! It’s a wonder | to me, that a clothes-line of shirts never | descended to ye from yer long string of old kings. Strikes me t ful to ye than yer d Ilere now,”he continu mir plant out the corn for this yer shirt, or come along with m : “Oh! give me the lord. The proprietor of the hotel, who, together with a veracious New York Tribune report- er had created this lor me to his re: and settled with the cruel Jersey official, while a crowd of the lord’s ly admirers, ck my-aw-shirt,” wept | ighte , wearing Lang- ollars stamped hed the released shreds, and di- | souvenirs of their immediately sna it into small them for seen of this distinguished hotel advertisement he wes trying to beat his way to New York on the ** Plymouth Rock.” ADELE. i The Siren's Wedding Ring. | Wiere the river's mimic billows | | | Darken “heath the drooping willows That i With the water a Where th Casteth OF the leaflets yfully coquettin ithe | glimmer All the harvest kr Wooed her ly Fairer s Anc wssembling trembling. Day by day the But her eves we Day by day the ery omy hee tears it tribute drew— And. whene'er a wooer sought her, She would show the ny water: Pointing where a trans quiver, Like a diamond, sparkled throug Saying, “ Yor er rin st all pure rom the river ooze beneath. And each knight, his soul made braver | y the promise of her favor, | her siren whisper listenin , nan—and be wedded, imbedded, and glistening, ght t th, | Som Follo . nerved on by wild affection, | dd down the bright reflection; he amulet, and bore it, And the ring and swimmer sank, Still, they say, the stream ntin Where th Still our br maid doth linger with beckoning finger, water treacherous lustre shone; t come to woo her— Fewer now, and waxing fewer— For she sends them down to slau And the work of death goe ter, Pensive by the willows leaning, * nd. meaning, And my thoughts are dark and bitter, And ‘as chilling as the st ren whisper hearkenit Tho’ the waves above are darkening, Men still sec Iden And would rea dream. ©. u. sEssor. A TirrsitiNe machine—the old woman’s slipper. | Tne prize fighter is ple to produce strik- | ing effects. NX xopeny lock’s-myth—a woman’s hair. comicbooks.com