Judge, 1889-07-13 · page 10 of 16
Judge — July 13, 1889 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains multiple satirical pieces mocking street vendors and urban nuisances of the era. The main poem "To a Peanut 'Butcher'" attacks street vendors who hawk peanuts and other goods loudly on city streets. A "butcher" here means someone who destroys or ruins things through crude behavior. The satire targets: - **Vendors' incessant hawking** of stale goods and dubious merchandise - **Their assault on public decorum** and peace through aggressive salesmanship - **Poor grammar and vulgar speech** ("Butcher of English") The accompanying illustrations show typical street scenes: vendors pestering pedestrians, businessmen being accosted, bohemians in poverty, and working-class life. Other pieces on the page mock domestic absurdities (wallpaper ruined by pomade) and include dialect humor featuring African American characters in the "Old Chocolate's Target Practice" section—typical of period publications, though offensive by modern standards. The overall theme: urban annoyances and the clash between aggressive street commerce and respectable society.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE TO A PEANUT “BUTCHER.” Burcwex—One who slays wantonly.— Webster, INHANGED assassin of the goober-nut, Brass-mounted blurter of untaundered lies— Go "long! I don't want“ gumdrops, biascat !” Your candy's stale as your uncandid cries. “Here's your peanuts! (F-Red-hot, Mister ! ER Hunchbacked, doublejointed, foar-ply peanuts! CHT Caramels? TR" Cheon-gum f'r yer sister? $B Candy ? TA Popcorn? GT” Samsage-tink peanuts S* Again, base Burker of protesting wares, ‘Whose age should spare them your unholy ** blow,” T hoped you'd gone! Zeeks" Who in thunder cares? Hence, Pirate of the Aisles! Dry up and go! “Here's yer good readin’! 27" Llustrated papers? EB Novels? CR Meelyer Eves? AF Better take this one? $2 Kead Robert L. Smear? Y@-Kemikal Kapers? 27" Them is the daisier—you don't warter miss one!” Butcher of English—truth—wit—everything ! ‘Ada to your crimes the sel{ward complement— Phain suicide. If more to me you bring, Tl do the butchering myself! Git! Went! “Rananns here? ER Figs here? (27- Oranges? ("Honey TI Ross price packages? Tem cents—try ‘em — B47 Fall 0 reel dimon's,jootry 'n money! ERT Talk up tively nore! Last chance to buy tem P* CHAS. LUMBER “a MIXED-UP MECHANISM. Mr. GRassMot Look ‘r that! I jest give that cigar-cutter one twist, an’ knocked a reel six-f fer allt’ flinders Bane ‘ountry. ‘Th’ cutter's on Vother end of th bur NO FURTHER USE. TWO BOHEMIANS are conversing on Broadway. “Well, Lam completely cleaned out this time! I just sold the last stick of furniture I had.” “Are you sure that there is no other useless article that you might part with?" “Stop! I forgot—there’s my appetit CAPITULATION. O'REILLY (at the bath-house) —"' L'are me out ! It’s drownin’ »RUS—"* Will yer let us in fifty times a day after this?” * Orricex O'REILLY —"* Oi will a Vousand, av yez'll l'ave me out !” HE MADE AN IMPRESSION. $4] 00K HERE, Cora,” said old Brown to ughter, “when Mr. Pomade comes to see you, hereafter, you must make him take a seat in the middle of the room.” “Why so, pa?” “Because he uses oil on his hair, and he'll soon have the wall- paper ruined.” OLD CHOCOLATE’S TARGET PRACTICE. E. SELLER'S bushel am allus toe small. De kunel ob de sweetes’ nut am hahdes" toe git at. W'en Pompey totes de chile, hit er easy toe see dat Dinah am boss. De chick dat doan’ chase whar de hen scratches goes wid emp'y crop. Ef yo" doan’ laik toe heah hens cackle, doan’ grum'le ef dey yan’t no aigs, : A bad name goes wid a bad man, jis’ ez sho'ly ez a bent tree cas’s a crooked shadder, Hope ull he'p'a man erlong ez good ez a hoss; an’ one nibble ull keep some men fishin’ all day. Sometimes folks by dair own acts confess weakness, yit dey ud git mad ef de weakness wah p'inted out. “ain't safe eben w’en de fish mahketman sells yo’ a fish fo" half-money ‘ca'se hit er not fresh toe ‘min’ ‘im ob dat fac’. In ‘mergencies we is apt toc fawgit simple t'ings. Many a man wren he'm mad am li’ble toe open de do’ wid an ax, dough ef he wah Mr. SoLLINcER (referring to the old fort)—* Vou may prefer the modern toe stop an’ t'ink he ud ‘membah dot a latch an’ hinges dun bean €S, Bob, but as for me, give me these ancient beauties." es h Miss Opium (snappishdy)—" If you'll permit me, Mr. Sollinger, I think T'll fu'nished fo" dot pu‘poss. }-Acwatogox. go back to the hotel alone.” me ‘ comicbooks.com