Judge, 1895-10-12 · page 10 of 16
Judge — October 12, 1895 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**"Precept Versus Practice"** (top section) satirizes a hypocritical Kansas politician named Bollers. He preaches strict fiscal conservatism and gold-standard orthodoxy while publicly scorning speculators and "silver agitators." The irony: he's swindled out of eleven thousand dollars through a "gold-brick" con—a fake gold scheme. The satire mocks those whose lofty economic principles don't protect them from being duped, suggesting his rigid ideology disconnects from practical reality. **"Her Understanding"** depicts an Irish immigrant woman (dialect humor typical of the era) misunderstanding a bill collector's question about finances. **"Prayer Did It"** presents a sentimental anecdote: a young orphan girl prays for a baby, believing in divine intervention. When her mother explains they can't have one without a father, the child cleverly prays for both—then worries God might deliver them to the wrong house, like he did previously. The page mixes political satire with domestic humor and light verse, characteristic of *Judge's* format blending social criticism with family entertainment.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
age PRECEPT VERSUS PRACTICE. fancies he was probably the boss ; Now, by stinginess and slaving, joined to note- and mortgage-shaving, he had made ‘a handsome saving in the substance known as ‘* dross.” At his home in Greenville Center, being self-appointed mentor, as 4e voted ‘lections went or the deuce would be to pay ; ? In opinions thus pugnacious, and ungracious as tenacious, very few were so audacious ‘as to vote the other way. He could tell you to a fraction the effect of each transaction in the currency's contraction or the gold reserve in sight ; On the evils of protection he would dwell with deep dejection, while deploring the defection of the people from the right. And all sorts of speculators (though a friend of agitators and of vote manipulators) Bollers held himszif above ; But the silver agitation with the greenback’s wild inflation caught his highest adoration and his soul's most ardent love “To this creed my faith I pin it. ‘Side o' greenbacks, gold ain't in it for a solitary minute "— thus his constant theme and boast ; Yet one day two pleasant callers took eleven thousand dollars from the interesting Bollers through the so-called ** gold-brick" roast. GHoKGe moss. HER’ UNDERSTANDING. Couuecror—"' Mrs Casey, I believe? Who foots the bills, may T'ask—you or your husband?” Mus. Casey—"* Faix, O/ does wake days—thot is if onny'sthrange ones sthray into me yar-rd,”” PRAYER DID IT, T PRESENT Marjorie is happy in the possession of a fond step- father over whom she maintains des- also a brand-new baby ster; and no one disturbs her positive convictions that both were sent here direct from heaven. Marjorie’s father died when she years old. A few months later the advent of a baby in the home’of a play- mate set Marjorie to think- ing. At bed-time she asked gravely, “ Mamma, did God send that baby to Gracie’s house?” “Yes, dear,” smiled her mother. “Then let us pray God to send us one right away,” exclaimed the child, falling ‘on her knees by her little crib, “ Marjorie, we must not ask God to send us a baby, for it would be just like you, with no papa to love and care for it,” replied her mother cee tee ae sadly. ROASTED BEFORE. . The face of the child Ilis SATANIC NIRS —“* You appear to be perfectly comfortable. . ANRIVALne"’ Ves, tolerably, Vou see, Iwas a base-bail Clouded, but for a moment happy thought as she cried, “Mamma, dear, I'll pray God to send us the baby and you pray God to send us the papa.” The prayer was offered after her own peculiar fashion, and then she drowsily remarked, “ Mamma, tell God our number, else like as not he'll drop ‘em over in Gracie’s house, just as he did the other baby.” DOG-GEREL VERSE. Am I not a bute, for a bow-wow? Zimmerman has drawn me, a bow-wow— He might have drawn a cat, But he didn't care for that And I'd ra:her be a bow-wow-wow. TOOK HIM AT HIS WORD. ConeN —"‘Ah, mein frient, don’t go home | without taking this peautiful coat with you.” Mr. Havsexp—" Thanks. That's the best- only, then beamed with her natured man I ever seed.” comicbooks.com