Judge, 1888 · page 41 of 72
Judge — 1888 — page 41: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct pieces of satirical content: 1. **"Millionaire" (top)**: A sentimental poem about romantic devotion, paired with an illustration of a wealthy woman. The satire likely mocks excessive romantic language or the commercialization of love among the wealthy. 2. **"Brute Intelligence" (center/bottom)**: A tall tale told by Jim Sweet at a grocery store about his hunting dog Suit's remarkable intelligence. The humor derives from the contrast between Jim's boastful setup and the folksy, rambling storytelling typical of rural tall tales—common American humor of the era. 3. **"The New Ordinance" (right)**: A brief cartoon about New York City's new music ordinance restricting noise at midnight. A feline serenader (cat with a violin) argues with a policeman, noting the mayor allows "catgut" (violin strings) to play until 1 a.m.—a pun playing on literal catgut versus the instrument's components. The page reflects Judge's satirical approach to contemporary social issues, sentimental literature, and urban regulations through humor.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
NATURAL GAS FROM mow aye IF thou shouldst smile on me, JUDGE. ° . If thou shouldst give to me, j g With sweet, free will, The richest treasure lover e’er could know— I could but live for thee, Then through my heart Flashing like flame with heat and light would go Love's bliss! The while to thee Adoring still, Or die a million deaths, Llove thee sot Should quickly dart A million tender joys, I love thee so! Be what thou wilt, dear one, If thou shouldst frown on me, Then in my soul Dull night would reign with darkness, cold and woe, Coy, kind or shy, Or summer sunshine with thy glance bestow ; Of evils fear none, Yet still a crown to thee, With all its dole, Should be my million griets, | love thee so! BRUTE INTELLIGENCE. im Sweet remarked as he took his pipe out of his mouth, “They is a sort of instink or intellek in dorgs which approaches intelligence.” Every man in the grocery leaned over and nodded sagely, and Dick Griffith askeda small boy to hand him a broom- straw to clear out his’pipe. “I have owned several remarkable dorgs in my time, but old Suitor was the darndest dorg of all. You remember old Suit, don’t you, squar?” and he appealed to Squire Stephens, who stood up majestically leaning against the counter. “As a deer dog on a cold scent old Suit was a remarkable dog,” said the squire with dignity. “An allgeewhillikins dorg you better say,” said Jim as he threw a quid of tobacco into Kelsey’s pocket, who sat on the opposite side of the stove asleep. “ But it wasn’t about his allfired grit on a cold scent I was goin’ to speak. It was about his intelligence and foresight and kalkilation. He laid over an rg I ever seed on them qualifications, and, squar, yew know i “Tell yer blamed old story and don’t hey so many introduc- tory remarks,” said Hugh Jones as he put his feet up on the in’t no old story,” said Jim;." but when I read these yer noosepaper yarns about the intellek of dorgs it makes me mad to think old Suit ain’t alive to jest take the cake. It was along in the winter of ’59 or ’60, and Brayte Worden, Bob Griffith and I was up to Jock’s lake after deer. We started a big buck and he left the runaways and steered right back towards the Raywheel mountains with old Suit on his track. Well, we hurried on behind fur about ten miles when it begun to snow, and I knew if it snowed in our track we would hev to use a compass to git back, and I looked in my pocket fur the compass. It was gone, and HARDLY SUSPECT IT. Miss MONGER (in @ whisper)—" That's our new rector behind you, Emma.” Mrs. Lowcrturci—* Yes; [heard him last Sunday.” Miss Mo How do you like him ? Not at all. Hi logether too high for me.” Since still may T Hope for a million years, I love thee so! THE NEW ORDINANCE, “Hi, there! Stop! All music must stop at midnight.” FELINE SERENADER—* You're away off. The mayor says catgut may be twirled till one a.m. (The mayor of New York has decided that stri: instruments may be played till a.m.) thar we was. We knew our fate if it continued to snow, so we turned around and jest galloped back fur camp before our tracks was snowed full. Well, we knew old Suit was a gone! followed the deer an hour longer he would hev no ks to. foller back, and we hove a sigh at his loss. When we got to camp we made ready to git out of the woods next mornin’, fur we couldn't do nuthin’ without a dorg or a compass either. So next mornin’ we commenced to pack up to git out, when blame my skin if we didn’t hear a dorg bark up on the side of the moun- tain, and thar comes old Suit. We seen him paw the snow off a stump and then look down anda sort of take his pints and then come straight down to camp. When he walked in among us he stopped in front of me and dropped outen his mouth my compass. That ere blamed dorg had watched how we took our bearin’s with a compass, and when he started out in the mornin’ he jest natch- ally stole that instrument and carried it all day and worked his way back to camp with it. Now, boys, when I read” But the boys had all silently got up and started for home. “Gentlemen,” said Jim, “old Suit is dead and I can't produce him, but here’s the compass with teethmarks on it no’ ‘The old squire looked angry and asked, “Do you call that yarn a evidence of brute instinct?” “Of course I do,” said Jim ; ef it ain't, what is i “It's a blamed lie,” said the squire, “that’s what it is.” “Boys,” said Dick, ‘I am goin’ to shut up this grocery, and it ain’t the only thing that better shut up either.” If he comicbooks.com