Judge, 1889-12-14 · page 7 of 16
Judge — December 14, 1889 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page announces Judge magazine's publicity stunt: sending a representative reporter on a rapid world tour. The satirical point is obvious—the absurdly tight timeline (74 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 10 seconds) mocks both sensationalist journalism and the competitive speed-racing between newspapers of that era. The route listed is intentionally ridiculous: New York to California by rail, Japan by ship, China on foot, India on animal-back (or crocodiles "if he can't secure mules"), then Europe and back to Judge's office. The joke is that Judge is playfully competing with other newspapers' around-the-world expeditions while keeping the scheme deliberately absurd. The page also contains unrelated short humorous items ("Mottley") with puns and jokes. The cartoons appear to illustrate these brief gags rather than connect to the main story.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
159 AN IDYL. E WAS a stranger, five fect three, + And I was six feet four; He eyed me straight from head to foot— He looked me o'er and o'er. He stared, certes, he stared at me— ‘This stranger, city-wise, And fast my color rose in ire Against his questioning eyes. What ailed my—feet? The stranger spake: S33 f eens : He said twelve inches make a foot, But—he had not seen you!” —=— UNDER THE MANAGEMENT oF Judge. aaa aes es ]§ A SPIRIT of emulative progression, and alive to the interest which the event will occasion, JUDGE has started a representative on a tour around the world, Favoring winds, plenty of grit, and two bundles of lead-pencils should bring him back to the curb-edge of our building in exactly seventy-four days, twenty-three hours, fifty- nine - minutes, and ten seconds, thus allowing him fifty seconds to wait for the elevator and get to his desk in time to shatter all pre- vious records. For reasons not unconnected with a free pass over the Frying-pan-handle route, good only in fall and winter, it was thought advisable for the streaking traveler to go from east to west, and on a bright moonlight night, several hours before our various contemporaries got on to our scheme and attempted to copy it, he was pushed out of the portals, and by the stern aid of patrolman number forty-four, who was hired to chase him to the ferry, he disappeared around the corner followed closely by our yells of good feeling, a request not to forget a loan of five dollars, the aforesaid policeman, and one dog. The itin- eracy of the trip as laid out and to be closely followed will be as fol- lows, leaving the details of time to take care of themselves: From New York to Hoboken—to Dago beach, California, by rail— to Fustyama, Japan, by return coolie ship—to Pin Hole, south-eastern China—to Haiderabad, Bombay, on foot—to Beirat, Phoenicia, on animal- back (if he can’t secure mules he is instructed to use crocodiles or other fauna)—to Naples by coral-packet—to Gyswyl, Switzerland, where the traveler has a rich aunt living—to Paris, to London, to Liverpool, to Dublin, back again to Liverpool for reasons which will appear—to cattie- ‘orth river—horse-car to JUDGE office. - MOTTLEY. jew of the fact that a tremendous special edition will be printed APPROPRIATE word for railroad ties—Sleepery-elm. on receipt of his first budget, which will reach us from Dago beach ‘A dance that is maizy—The Indian green-corn dance. next weck, the publi¢ is requested to use its influence with the news- “What a head I have on me!" as the mill-dam said after a three- dealers and vote dimes early and often. Brethren, the electric-legger days’ rain. is off. Let breath be bated. Gs Indian-scalping is the raising of hair; ticket-scalping is the lower- ing 0° fare. “T'm not on that lay,” as the hen said when she refused to sit on the duck’s eggs. “Merely an empty, form,” as the dog said when he had tracked the hare to its nest and found it gone. “When I walk home at the end of the season I never feel lonesome if I walk on railroads where the ties are made from the chestnut,” said the minstrel end-man, RD, MOTT. THE WIND BLEW THROUGH. Gatgs—“Why what a cough you have!” Waggs—"Yes; lost_my collar-button two days ago; been catching cold through the button-hole ever since.” THE WAY TO TELL New - Yorker —“ Wow co you tell your cows from those of your neighbors ?” DECOYED. Tomasso Ropusto—" Ha! Wov iss K CLARENCE D'Limnerc —"* Pilly-willy-weough !” pranio is early at the tryst to-night ; comicbooks.com