Judge, 1891-12-05 · page 27 of 52
Judge — December 5, 1891 — page 27: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Judge* magazine features a sentimental ballad celebrating Christmas traditions among rural working-class Americans. The poem, attributed to Eva Wilder McClasson, romanticizes a poor family's Christmas—a man cuts a tree from the forest, treks home through snow, and anticipates his wife and children's joy at homemade decorations (red-pepper pods, paper dolls, etc.). The tone is nostalgic and celebrates humble contentment. Below are lighter satirical pieces: "A Mild Insinuation" is a pun joke about evergreen trees having "winter firs." "Holiday Presents" contrasts wealthy and poor children's gifts—one receives a talking doll, the other a "live baby" (implying an actual newborn sibling as a gift). The page footer references a comic strip about "The Ill-Treated Traveler." The content reflects Victorian-era sentimentality about rural poverty as noble and virtuous, mixed with genteel humor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Oh, it's growéhon the ridgelSmany is the year, And I markdj it away last sprang; . Fer I spotted it out ez a likely kindah tree Whilse up byere a-diggin’ ginsang. Then ho! sing ho! fer the Christmas-tree, Ez it falls with a creak an’ a groan! ‘An’ hom’ard I strike th’oo the snow an’ the ice Fer to plant it aside the hearth-stone, Thar's a red light blinks in the cabin fur below, An’ my wife she’s waitin’ thar on me. The youngsters are abed in the roof-room overhead, An'I envy them the dreamin’ sights they see. Then ho! sing ho! fer the Christmas-tree,— we'll tie to a limb, An’a live > Z An’ Jinny she wil : r to When she spies thet er7@pRE tag doll. Then ho! sing ho! fer the Chris -tree, Whar red-pepper pods like flame Will hang on the boughs an’ natchelly put The taller-dips all to shame. Oh, I tell ye what it is! I will give a fist to life, An’ praise her—you better believe, So long ez I kin feel sech a beatin’ at my heart Ez strikes me on every Christmas eve! Then ho! sing ho! fer the Christmas-tree, It'll stretch from the chimley to the door. How the little ones ‘Il shout when the sun sneaks out ‘An’ they peek th’oo the roof-room floor! A MILD INSINUATION. . sTHE evergreen trees of the forest are more fortunate than 1.” “ How so?” “ They are provided with a set of winter firs.” An’ heaven fer saints be crowned ! But this old earth is good enough fer me When holerday times is round! EVA WILDER MC GLASSOX, HOLIDAY PRESENTS. Lille Miss Rich— My mamma gave me a doll this Christmas that can talk.” Little Miss Poore—" Huh! Santa Claus sent my mamma a really, truly, live baby.” 6. THE ILL-TREATED TRAVELER; AND HOW HE OBTAINED FOOD AND REVENGE. comicbooks.com