Judge, 1891 · page 41 of 69
Judge — 1891 — page 41: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains four separate humorous sketches typical of late-19th-century American satirical humor: **"The After-Supper Dance"** and **"A Night at the Old Homestead"** depict domestic comedy—clumsy dancing and rustic discomfort (sleeping on corn cobs instead of husks). **"Years Ago"** is a sentimental poem about aging, using Time as a personified figure who "shakes his hour-glass" and "whispers" reminders of mortality. It contrasts youthful vigor with inevitable decline. **"In a Troy Cemetery"** jokes darkly about a man who erected a monument to his pet game-cock, then casually admits he's uncertain which of his deceased *wives* is buried in another plot—satirizing both rural eccentricity and callous marital indifference. **"After the Reception"** appears to mock gossip about a woman's romantic entanglements. The humor targets rural life, aging, infidelity, and the absurdities of small-town society—typical Judge content mixing sentimental verse with crude social comedy.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE'S ANNUAL. A NIGHT AT THE OLD HOMESTEAD. NGER—" Haow d’jer sleep, Nathaniel?” Nat—"'Pretty well; but [ think grandmother made a mistake and put cobs instead of husks into that mattress.” par Miss Haskiys—" Do Mr. Cray—"' Ya-as, YEARS AGO. 1 once was young, ah me! ali me! Lam not old—and yet, and yet, How long ago it used to be ! Would that sometimes one might forget, And when its far-off glory seems When life was young how that sweet-time So like the heaven of my dreams, Made wrinkles and gray hairs a crime. And palsied memory in vain Now, like a newly-kindled fire, Persuades me of my youth again, If love leaps up with fresh desire, Time shakes his hour-glass in my fa Whets his old scythe with solemn grace, And whispers me in accents lov **Son, that was years ago, Long years and years ago, ‘Time bends him down with rude grimace, Blows the cold ashes in my face And chuckles while the cinders glow, **Son, that was years ago, sand years ago.” IN A TROY CEMETERY. R—* Fine monument you've got there, si "Yes: that’s ia memory of my pet game-cock.” Who's the little stone for ?” Crrizen—'* I ain't dead sure, but T believe one of my wives occupies that locality.” Miss Epcrcomme—'' Do you remember what Dolly Farren had on, Tom ?”" Her protiter—" No; couldn't make out whether it was a love-affair with Jenson or just a flirtation with me.” comicbooks.com