Judge, 1896-07-25 · page 3 of 16
Judge — July 25, 1896 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Magazine Page 51 This page satirizes middle-class domestic life and alcohol's social effects. The top illustration titled "The Effect of Alcohol" depicts a chaotic beach scene, contrasting with the text's dialogue about a couple's anniversary and marital discord. The main dialogue features "Jacob" and his wife discussing their deteriorated relationship. She recalls their wedding day fondly, while he complains about her piano playing and domestic habits. The satire targets how alcohol and modern leisure activities (beach outings, "sassiness") disrupted traditional family values. Ms. Johnson (likely a servant or friend) offers commentary on marriage's hardships. The cartoon mocks both spousal friction and the era's anxieties about changing social behavior, particularly women's independence and the perceived negative influences of leisure culture on domestic stability.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE EFFECT OF ALCOHOL.. ‘The way the beach looked to Jagsby. NO PLACE LIKE HOME. 6 6C)H. YES; New York's all very well, but ‘tain’t what it wuz forty year ago, when you an’ me wuz thar on our weddin'-tower.” “Ain't it, Jacob? Why, I'm sure you heard that furriner with th’ long hair play th’ piany; that muster ben nice." “Oh, sorter, sorter, But shucks! Our Sophy, that night she bruk one o’ th’ strings o' th’ instrument givin’ us ‘Hold th’ fort,’ she played louder ‘n him.” “But th’ theaytre— you went there; that muster ben good anyway.” “ Not like the pieces we see. Don't you rec’lect all them bell-ringers playin’ away fit ter split?” “T guess I do.” “ An’ that other chap we see, that et fire?” “What do they do now, Jacob?” “Only walk ‘round an’ talk an’ sass like th’ folks anywhere. Why, that's real; that ain’t no actin’.” “No; I s'pose not. They'd oughter et fire.” “ An’ then—well, I must say, Lu- cindy, it’s all —the hull of New York's doin's—like what th’ onregenerate ‘d — “Take care, Jacob.” pe inom Mr. Jounson—" I undahstan’, Miss Jackson, dat youah “Well, ‘tis; it's jest what th’ wicked ‘d call gol darndest —ef I be a deacon.” “How?” “ Even th’ way they cat—call their supper dinner, ef you please. An’ everything a-stringin’ along a leetle mess at atime. Downright ridic’lous.”” “But it must be sociable t’ see so many folks ‘round.” “No, ‘tain't; it’s lonesome. Folks everywhere an’ not a person even passin’ th’ time o' day with you. Now, out here thar ain't ezactly so many folks, but—well, th’ sticks an’ th’ stuns, we're acquainted with ‘em all, Lucindy. ‘Why, th’ pertaters down in that thar cellar, I've planted ‘em an’ I've hoed ‘em an’ I've wed ‘em an’ I've dug ‘em. Yes, sir! I know them pertaters well. An’ down there th’ rooms is all het with pipes runnin’ ‘round ‘em, an’ no matter how cold your feet be thar ain't a oven nowhere t’ stick ‘em inter.” “Well, I'm glad you've got back, Jacob, where I can see to it you git th’ comforts 0’ life.” “You jest guess I'm glad. I tell you what it is, Lucindy, thar ain’t no place like hum with your wife, be she bow-legged”— ever so aumbly.” VIOLETTE MALL, Mr. Jounson—" Let up on me, Miss Jackson ; let up on me! I wus only goin” to say dat I heard youah bow-legged daschund won de fust prize at de dog-show.” A HASTY CONCLUSION, comicbooks.com