Judge, 1891-09-26 · page 10 of 16
Judge — September 26, 1891 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains humor pieces typical of early 20th-century American satire. The main content includes: **"Hay-Fever"** — A lengthy comic poem by John Talmage describing the misery of seasonal allergies through exaggerated complaints: sneezing, watery eyes, and general suffering. The humor relies on contemporary readers' familiarity with this common ailment and sympathizing with the protagonist's dramatic despair. **Comic vignettes** scattered throughout satirize working-class life and social situations: - "Work by the Hour" mocks laborers' disputes over contracted time - "The Unity of Things" plays on Irish-accented dialogue about a workplace accident - "Suggested Too Late" uses dark humor about a drowning victim - "The Force of Memory" contrasts a man's emotional reaction to a bent pin with his past as a schoolmaster **"The Low Comedian"** compares idealized versus realistic depictions of comedians—the "ideal" shows a well-dressed performer; "the real" shows a shabby man with children, satirizing the gap between performance and actual lives. The satire targets class differences, workplace conditions, and everyday frustrations familiar to Judge's middle-class readership.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
HAY-FEVER. Mv gece pete ie cerita cei When the hay-fever season looms in sight. My sorrow’s cup and my head fill up; On misery I breakfast and dine and sup. I snufite and sneeze and my eyes run seas: Glasses blur and eyes smart amid sounds like these: oo sonal ao \choo! r ‘And I drop remarks till the air is blue. Soon, by degrees, are the snuffle and sneeze Re-enforced by the asthma's strangling wheeze. In my fix would squirm e'en the pachyderm : Tmust not swear. but 1 will afira, y irs mad ab hen interrupted wien ye as sai Teggs again and again: Ly "atch you! “Atch yout" =i eal To sneeze, weep and sneeze is all I can do. In view of this bore I question no more ‘The existence of sheol with heat galore ; And we don’t have to wait for a future state To fry on the griddle of torment great. Doubt if you can, thou skeptical man, When the H. F, levels its frightful ban Atyou! At you! Let it once catch on and it sticks like glue. As my temples throb, between blow and sob, To the dewy distress of my febrile knob, Lenvy that scamp, the Greproof-throated tramp, Vhose visage outdazzles a railroad lamp— One of nature's dregs with inconstant legs, Who of my generosity meekly begs chew! Achew! Oh, tourist, I'd like to swap fates with you! To “shake my woes I would tote this nose “To the tropic heats or the polar snows; Consort indeed with the centipede, Where tarantulas flourish and serpents breed ; eee the rons that’s ers ah 2 eet averted, {fate would quit preaching from that old text: Deen eee Aco ce me through: THE UNITY OF THINGS. O06: Death, pun your cars Cows and let ms throu JOM TALMAN: Contax —‘* It's some ressylutions th’ Black Rabbit chowdher club gev me whin th’ breath left me son Dinny.” Orr McRea —"* Yez hov it upsidy down.” ConLan—"'Oi do. Th’ poor lad fell down an elevaty shaft at th’ shop.” SUGGESTED TOO LATE. 6 6THIS is a terrible warning to you, young man,” said old Mr. Peterson to his wayward nephew, who recently returned from a voyage on a merchantman. i “ What is?” asked the nephew. “Why, young Baggs became intoxicated last night and fell into the river. He never came up at all.” “Is that so? Why didn’t he jettison his load >” DREADFUL. I, when will my heart find a cure for the smart ‘That Cupid has left with his mischievous dart? For my pretty typewriter has said she will be A simple amanuensister to me. WORK BY THE HOUR. THE FORCE OF MEMORY. Heattuy Wityum —** I hear our friends de brakemen hez struck.” oe Wy did you tremble so at that moment?” asked his friend. “Are Weary Wa Wot hez dey struck fer?” you ill?” eee you ill? Heavrny Wr Dey’s struck fer shorter hours. aggaie ; “ . . s—* Well, Lallers did think sixty minutes wuz too long No," the other answered ; “but I saw a bent pin on the pavement, and—and I used to be a schoolmaster, you know." THE LOW COMEDIAN, The ideal. comicbooks.com