Judge, 1891-03-21 · page 7 of 20
Judge — March 21, 1891 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains primarily light humor and social commentary typical of Judge magazine's era. **"A Ballad of Lager-Beer"** is a comic poem celebrating lager beer, written in Irish-immigrant dialect. It presents beer as a cure-all that saved people from despair and replaced ineffective medicines and alcohol. The verse likely reflects both genuine Irish-American immigration experience and period attitudes toward beer as wholesome compared to whiskey. **The cartoon panels** show domestic and working-class scenes with minimal political content—a hotel manager explaining why he uses cheap sheets (guests steal them), a child's naive question about grandfather at judgment day, and workplace mishaps. **"Cross-Lights"** offers puns on contemporary political figures and topics, though specific references are unclear without additional context. The page is primarily entertainment rather than serious satire, reflecting Judge's role as a humor magazine for middle-class readers. The Irish-dialect poem may carry some ethnic stereotyping typical of the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
BALLAD OF LAGER-BEER. ince I left the green island of in To settle myself in this land of the free, ‘An’ by the same token me heart it was broken Whin I thought the ould sod I might niver more see. I concluded in private I couldn't survive it, lass of lager got into me Till the fi bral Faith! it banished sich gammon, I le'pt ea salmon ‘An' I thought 1 was back in dear Oire- lan’ again. There's Jimmy Malony, me faithful oul erony, He sits by the fire whin the day's work is done, is done, An’ his cares an‘ his throubles they vanish like bubbles ‘Whin we talk of the spot where as boys we had fun. If I shpake of the actions between the two factions His eyes give a laugh an’ be shoves me his An’ he sez to the lasses, * Come. set out the glasses’; ‘Tell John on the corner to fil up the can.” ‘This wonderful dink waa devied an" concocted ‘a man named Gambrinus far over the sea. Whin I tell ye the story that crowned bim with h ory, hat he richly deserved it with me ye'll agi For the people were dyin: though they'd brandy an’ wein, ‘An’ a man that dhrank soday he died jist the same So they called a convintion—its name I won't mintion— But the king an’ his nobles to visit it came. Gambrinus stipt up wid a pitcher o' lager, He poured out a glass which he gev to the king + Whin the oul’ fella dhrank it sez he,= Lord be thankit! "aw | know that our throubles are goin’ to take wing.” ‘Then the docthors so lazy either died of wint crazy, For the divil a patient they had to att ndertaker made peace with his Maker, For be knew that his business had come to an ind. Ye make talk o' the ale that the Danes made o” heather Ye make talk o° the necthar that Jupither dhrank ; But this stuff o' Gambrinus’, to counteract dryness, Is enough to convert a good temperance crank. An‘ whin mixed up wid music ’twon't make me nor you sick — Sure, it works, all in all, a most beautiful plan! For it helps us, be jabers! to love all our Seghborn, NECESSARY PRECAUTION, OPEN-HEARTED MC! LanpLorp — We (in the hotel Comfort, Bowery) —"* What's that?” ‘hat’s one of th’ new sheets. h’ guests got in th’ habit of th old ones together an’ skippin’ out th’ back windows without payin’ their ante, so we use these exclusive now.” On, whisky will kill yex, an’ ale it is blious, ‘Ant is too wake for a hard-working man ; Bat there's nothin’ s0 healthy for poor or for ‘wealthy Asa good glass of lager; so fill up the can! Gxoxce x. DEvyR. LIKELY TO BE LEFT. SO\VHATLL they do for grandpa on the day of judgment?” asked Willie. “What do you mean?” asked his mother. ‘An’ that’s thrue religion; so fill up the can! 5 4 He'stuo deat che lsaaver hear Gabriel's tooting.” * THE TRAINED MONGREL’S MISHAP. A GOOD COMBINATION. Reporter —" Here is my account of the wedding of that Boston man to the Chicago girl.” Editor —" Have you put a heed on it?” Reporter — Certainly. ‘Pork and beans." “WOULD HAVE SOFTE} THE BLOW, . ‘pp Sullivan have brass knuckles ‘on when he hit you ?” “No,” said the unfortunate; wish he had.” he coasts of France no high tide know ; Lazy RocERson The water there is always /'caw. CLASSIFIED. s4]S MISS PASS year’s buds?” I am told that she is.” “ Wall-flower, I fancy.” 2 — Look out dar, Cassi —"' Da’s all right. Drap d’ line agin.” one of this JEALOUSY. +6] SHE beautiful?” “Most girls say not.” “Then she must be. CROSS - LIGHTS. Cold comfort — Ice-cream. Up to the mark —Twain. Galt of bitterness — Ingalls Taking a horn—The coach- ing club. Spring's coming —When nat- ure leaves Working the growler —The man with the trained bev. * Yank'm hahd, boy ; we'll git ‘nough fer a mess —"Bress d’ ‘mancipation! dat must 'r ben a dawg. befo! noor noon,” fish.” comicbooks.com