Judge, 1891-01-24 · page 3 of 16
Judge — January 24, 1891 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Judge* magazine contains multiple satirical pieces mocking late 19th-century American politics and politicians. **"The Trickery of the Veil"** (top) depicts a woman in elaborate disguise confronting a well-dressed man, likely satirizing deceptive political maneuvering or fraud. **Lower sections** reference specific political figures: Mrs. Cleveland (wife of President Grover Cleveland), Mr. Gladstone (British PM), and General Canby. The brief items mock their political failures and controversies. **"A Sickened Soul"** presents dialogue between political operatives discussing electoral manipulation and vote-buying—common corruptions of the Gilded Age era. The overall thrust criticizes dishonesty, patronage, and backroom dealing in American politics circa 1892, using caustic humor typical of *Judge*'s partisan satirical approach.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE TRICKERY The wind was blowing very strongly on the afternoon when Mr. Ken- sington Ratcliff met the entrancing Widow Corydon on the avenue— [OOK OUT for Pennsylvania in the struggle of '92. Mrs. Cleveland has been pouring tea in Philadelphia. THE FRIENDSHIP between them is not of that riotously hilarious nature that speaks of the one as Grover Hill and the other as David Bennett Cleveland. And yet they are two souls with but a single thought. scete MBE. GLADSTONE will die without accomplishing the later work he had set for himself; but a failure is nevertheless glory in his case, not to mention the fact that the Irish are always kicking against their independence, whe ASTOR FIZER has been suspended by his bishop for six months for running for governor of Arkan- sas on the Republican ticket. Evidently the bishop thinks Mr. Fizer should not neglect his calling without making his election sure. MBS. TENNANT says the most tractable son-in-law in the Mr. Stanley is world. It appears that Henry had to get her consent to the marriage, and she made him beg for it on his knees. She was the rear guard, in fact, And we have Henry's story not yet—not yet. DURING A DISCUSSION between Sherman and Morgan on the cloture business the former insinuated that the latter was not a good enough Morgan; whereupon Mr. Morgan asked, with a hoarse voice and much corrugation of countenance, “What kind of a gag do you call that?” eae GENERAL CANBY was killed by Modocs under a flag of truce. The same treachery was tried by the band of Big Foot, with no very satisfactory results. Yet the heart of Adirondack Murray is so filled with grief over the death of Sitting Bull that there is room in it for no recol- lection of Canby or any other murdered white man. SiGNor NEAPoL What are these ?* 3 “Two centa.” (Our Chauncey buys one and eats it on the spot.) rs OF THE VEIL. And our city suddenly acquired a new and mysterious statue. HOW WE GET OUR CONSOLATION E LOOK AHEAD to the happiness of failure. We anticipate the victory of defeat. Among the veterans forty or fifty years hence will be the man of thin and wrinkled countenance, sans teeth and sight, and everything but a desire for contributions, who puts himself up as a deservedly popular curiosity. “And who are you?” says the inquiring youth of that far-off day. “Young sir,” says the veteran, chewing his gums with unaffected pride and pleasure, “I am one of the old guard that was knocked out in 1890 and re-elected in 1892.” A SICKENED SOUL. southern newspaper, speaking of the force bill, asked, after a casual inquiry regarding the advisability of rebellion, “Shall we again see the South stretched on the ago- nizing rack and hear her bones crack to the melody of her plaintive appeals for mercy?” No, my child. Never, never! Bless your soul! there is no rack, and in these days heaven gives no gods or god- desses or mere individuals for purposes of torture. Sleep, little one! Borrow no -trouble, The angels watch your bed, but should you die the world would go on just as if you were alive for its protection, THE HARDY YEOMANRY. THERE WAS a man who appealed to the farmers’ alliance, saying, “ Why, see here! I have holes in the heels of my stockings ;” whereupon spoke up another man, saying, “Aha! I go you several bet- * ter. I have no stockings at all.” Again said a candidate for alliance votes, “1 do not black my boots from year to year ;" and immediately spoke up another candi- date, “From this time on I shall wear neither boots nor shoes nor anything of the nature of leather.” It is easy to sce which two of these four men got the votes; but is this the kind of politics the country needs? or does the country want to pledge itself to farmers or any other workers or business men in preference to SIGNOR NeAroLt (expectantly)—"' Speech ! the citizen at large ? comicbooks.com