Judge, 1896-04-11 · page 3 of 16
Judge — April 11, 1896 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page 241: Analysis This page contains several unrelated satirical pieces typical of Judge's humor style: **Top cartoon ("A Happy Death"):** Shows a man who died after consuming enormous quantities of food (custard pies, raspberry tarts, puddings, turkeys, etc.) in Chicago. The joke relies on grotesque exaggeration—death by gluttony presented as darkly comic. **Middle section:** Contains poetry and prose pieces, including "A Bunch of Easter Violets" (sentimental verse) and "The Proper Thing" (a brief dialog about celebrating Easter in Chicago). **Bottom cartoons:** Feature bicycling mishaps and physical comedy involving people and dogs. One references "the bronco," suggesting wild behavior. The humor is primarily visual slapstick and wordplay rather than political commentary. These pieces represent Judge's typical early 20th-century satirical magazine format mixing literary humor with comic illustrations.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
‘one chicken, and washed it all down th four quarts of champagne. A HAPPY DEATH, Weary Wracctes (reading )—"* A man in Chicago et twenty-seven pieces of custard pie, twenty-two raspberry tarts, five plum-puddings, two turkeys and FLOWERY FIELDS (ecstatically)—"' Oh, death ! where is dy sting?” AGONY. NOTHING so cuts a woman to the heart, or carries such a lingering sting of dissatisfaction, as to buy a plated or inferior article because she cannot afford to pay twice as much for a better one, and then find displayed in a win- dow in the next block a similar article, sterling, for the same price. A BUNCH OF EASTER VIOLETS. LAST vear I gave her violets On Easter day, And watched her slim white fingers pin ‘The fragrant purple blooms within Her bodice gray. A little bunch of violets, A moon, a maid ; ‘The glowing roses in her face Against the violets’ purple grace Caressing laid. Lasso Lema — ets what [ want. —Great coyote! I clean fergot these bikesickles wouldn't rein up. (Crack J)-— No more shall I love violets, Or that rare thing ‘A blue-bird on its happy way ; For as I walked with her that day T heard one sing. No more shall I love violets, Reminders of A little dream which soon took flight— One love too serious, one too light. Adieu, poor love ! No more shall I love violets ; Nor smile, nor frown, To watch my wife's white fingers pin Again the purple blossoms in Her Easter gown, MAY RILRY ssiTH, THE PROPER THING. Reverend Dr. Primrose —" So your daughter still thinks a great deal of Easter ?” Mrs, Hillaire—“ Yes, indeed. Since she moved to Chicago she usually celebrates it by getting married.” WHY HE —Suff'rin’ Alamo! wot — SWEARS BY THE BRONCO. He died an hour afterward.” HIS DEFINITION, Hts woNor—'* You are charged with knocking a man down and taking his watch. What have you to say?" RaccLes —“* Self-derfense, yer honer. Yer see ‘twas dis way—I wuz t'reatened wid der pneumony, an’ a gentleman friend uv mine wot works in a horspittle told me dat if I didn’t take somethin’ purty soon I'd croak, See?" —luck 111" comlichooks.com