Judge, 1888-05-19 · page 5 of 16
Judge — May 19, 1888 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes Black dialect and rural Southern life through minstrelsy-style humor common to late 19th-century American magazines. The main comic feature depicts enslaved or formerly enslaved people using heavily stereotyped speech patterns, discussing naming conventions and farm life. Characters debate whether to name a child "Prophet" or "Pig Choppin'" based on family precedent—the satire mocking both the supposed ignorance of naming practices and crude humor about pig theft. The "Consolatory" cartoon shows a dentist extracting the wrong tooth, a simple visual gag. Below, "A New England Idyl" presents a rural scene with presumably Irish immigrant characters, using dialect humor. The "Signs of Summer" section features mild social commentary about summer weather and a reference to Boulanger (likely French General Boulanger), suggesting political satire in other portions of the magazine. The heavy reliance on minstrelsy-style caricature reflects Judge's racist editorial stance typical of the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE WHAT'S IN A NAME? Mer’, mer’! You" come somebody. “Who it look like? My Lord in heaben! I'm too busy r be glad ter "= ame . y's ghe “TL b'leeve by de raggid coat she got on ‘tis Miss Sary Peah, she gut ‘er babby wid Dat’s des who'tis. My pa- Wisht t master she'd a Dar she i: climbin’ ober right now.” “Well, well, well! Bress iy soul ef here ain't Sis Sary, in’ seed fer er mont’ er at de gap, whut good wi y? Twus des erbout ’s nin’ ter think y we had biten’ dogs down dis way. T’se glad ernutf t two chickens,” = Hee ee-ee! e you ter kill , Leat um sho’. T's dis chile. Ain't mos’ Uree mont's ole.” wit’s?- He looks big ‘null fer sex Wha’ you done name tim?” been metty po'ly dis yard him ter meetin’ but gre't big, fine, chuck Prophit 1 wan te “won't de hi Hder chile Prophit.” * Well, dat's er cu'yus name. folks mos’ in gentally gits d Dar's Pig Choppin. now—my don’ yout? “LT heal um tell sum tale ‘bout it: but I dis'member jus’ now. How's Beer Pig now? Got ‘is i All Dey tells me he € in’, son's he bap “Why, how Moses der Proy tine’ arter his too many Mo preachin’ “bout Lain’t never did y Hames some sorter ci t fore, but ed jas’ husban’, ou knows ‘bout 's s none, ‘cordin’ ter my sa y gwine set “im mn som’p'a els ruster live down W dar wa'n't nothin’ is ole mars'r war ridin’ lar, do” he war right ed wid som'lin keep on er stealin’ ‘is fattes’ pigs. En w'en sting ‘bout hit ter ole man Ned—Pig’s daddy—he' y, * Fa ian, here's a piece of 1" when you get throug! ‘A NEW ENGLAND IDYL. You go over K: xive you some more,” CONSOLATORY. Victin—" Great Cesar, Destist—"Oh pever mi + pulled out the wrong tooth.” T won't charge you for Xed mo’en he did in he self, Well, dar he went, ridin’ ‘long easy like, an’ fust ing he know he come ereross Pig wid er lil fat shoat un’er each arm, hol'in’ dey moufs so dey couldn’ squeal, an’ des er latin’ an’ er lafin’ an’ er sayin’, ‘O dat fox! dat bad fox, wha’ ketehes all ole mars'r’s pigs.’ Ole jump down an’ crope clos’ ‘im, he did, an’ cotehed ‘im by de wool an’ sey, ‘Bress my life, ef Iv ones’! ¢ thought ‘ew: ne git er w'ippin’ fer stealen’; but ol sir he never tote you rekon ‘e done ‘stead er da Sole ‘im, mebbet Bob—Jenkins! pus’ an’ mn: mars'r lad er heap ob ‘em hid, he tuk ‘nh tuk P He le um blow de horn fe ter come dar, Aun’ wen dey w <n set tm in ‘heer —hint Pig Choppir ‘im all on ye ie; now he’s wash’ by de blood e Sis’ s but ‘tain’t washed away his taste fe did dat den ['d b'leeve in tim.” SIGNS OF SUMMER. isn't the country looking lovely these The growin! ing summe She—* Yes, indeed; and pa has already got a new front gate.” ROKER. Boulanger has his pail of red paint and is now trying to make up his mind as to which French statesman he had better use as a brush, ur or Lapon—" Me axe wor a thritle dull, maddim; but, saints save me! ev me alt Letther for th’ wur-ruk:” av wht oie comicbooks.com