Judge, 1889-04-27 · page 8 of 28
Judge — April 27, 1889 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from Judge satirizes New York's 1876 Centennial celebrations through multiple vignettes mocking high society pretension and social absurdities. **Key satires include:** - **"The Fruit of Centuries"**: Jawkins boasts about Caucasian racial progress from ancient Thermopylae to Bunker Hill, while Hogg deflates this by noting New York's "400" (the social elite) is far smaller than Sparta's legendary 300—mocking both grandiose historical comparisons and Manhattan's supposedly exclusive upper class. - **Centennial parade scenes**: Various sketches ridicule attendees' exhaustion, inappropriate attire (a farmer barred for lacking "evening dress"), and drunken revelers (Guzzleton) confusing statuary. - **"Susan B." reference**: A subtle jab at feminist Susan B. Anthony, whose absence at the "centennial fairy" suggests contemporary gender exclusions from celebrations. - **Social climbing absurdities**: Characters like "Upperton" and "Forundred" embody shallow pretension about fashionable events. The overall message mocks nouveau riche Manhattan society's hollow patriotism, class snobbery, and performative respectability during America's centennial moment.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE AT THE BANQUET. Mr. Knickerbocker — Ab, New York is something more than American now — she is cosmopolitan !” Mr, Sharpe (looking at the French menu)—"So I see. Even on such a day as this you get up a bill-of-fare that half of us cannot read.” THE FRUIT OF CENTURIES. Jawkins (viewing the centennial parade)—“* How grand has been the progress of the Caucasian race from Thermopyle to Bunker hill Hogg—" Yes; we have moved somewhat. Sparta had its three hundred, but New York has its * 400.” ” TIRED OUT IN ADVANCE. Mr. Upperten—" Are you going to the ball. to-night, Algy Mr, Forundrtd—" Aw—no. I've done so much kicking about it faw the las: month that I'm weally too tired to lift a foot.” A LITERAL STATEMENT. Mrs. Grexontx—"* You don’t seem to enjoy the ballet as much as you used to, Leopold ?” Mk. Grenostx—" No. [ had.all my taste for it kicked out of me long ago. A RIVAL ATTRACTION. Mrs. Qatcake—“ Ain't ye goin’ to the parade, Abner? It’s most time to start.” Uncle Abner—*You just bold.on a minute, Harriet Lain't quite done wrastlin’ with these ‘ pigs in clover. ONCE IS ENOUGH. Algy (next: morning)—" Well, Cholly, you've man- aged to survive the festivities.” Cholly (feeblyy —“Aw — yas; but another would kill me.” Algy—" Don't fret; there’s no danger of your see- ing the second.” IN UNION SQUARE. Guszleton (who has had a little too much banquet)— ™ Pity zhose two statues.are s* far apart!” Wiggins—" Why, Harry?” Guzzleton n'tchersee ?- Lafayette has his hand OVER-BALLASTED. out to Wash’n as if he'd say ‘ Shake, old boy" ?” _ Mr, STUVVESANT (as is som goes everboard)—"* For heaven's sake hurry with the boat captain! ‘The poor boy's got his great grandfather's Bunker-hill bull’s-eye watch on SHE WAS MISSED. “There's one thing I've missed so far,” says Jaggs ‘at the centennial ball. “ What's that ?” asked Snaggs. “The centennial fairy. “That's a fact. 1 haven't seen Susan B. myself this evening.” HIS “SUNDAY-GO-TO-MEETIN’” SUIT a BARRED. Usher (at. centennial ball)—" Sorry, sir, but 1 can= not admit you. You are not in evening dress.” Farmer Oatcake—" Gosh! Hev 1 got to git a pair o” knee-breeches Jike that statoo on Wall street ?” STILL BATTLING WITH THE SPIRIT. Parrott— As | gaze on this gorgeous pageant my spirit is carried back to the time when Washington was fighting his battles.” Guzzleton— Don't look back ; look ahead, my boy. Washington fought the battle of Brandywine ; to-night we fight the battle of champagne frappé.!” UP THE SPOUT. “Twixt honeymoon and honeycomb Mrs. MCALEENAN—"' Bring th’ mop-shtick, Jamesey, ‘till I poonch it out. Vure father wor The difference please to tell: afther talkin’ in his shleep lasht night, an’ he gev away where he hid his lasht sayson’s shpring, ‘The one is many Mitte cells, ovycoat,” ‘The other one big sell, comicbooks.com