Judge, 1896-09-26 · page 7 of 16
Judge — September 26, 1896 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct satirical pieces from an American humor magazine: **"Finesse"** mocks homesteaders moving westward during the Oklahoma Land Run era. A con artist trades 80 acres of his government claim for mules, then fraudulently trades his remaining 80 acres to a naive "tenderfoot" without the man's knowledge—illustrating frontier dishonesty dressed up as shrewd dealing. **"Not in the Right Place"** is a brief joke about a roadside hotel's poor hygiene and service standards. **"A Yachting Trip"** is a sentimental poem about lost romance—a couple who wore each other's sailor hat and yachting cap during a seaside courtship. Years later, married to wealth (Mr. Spendrocks), the narrator laments that romantic spontaneity has vanished, replaced by social propriety. **"A Stern Reality"** (bottom) shows a farmer contentedly operating a steam calliope despite its mechanical failures—gentle mockery of rural attachment to modern technology. The page reflects turn-of-century American preoccupations: westward expansion fraud, class anxiety, and nostalgia for lost innocence amid industrial progress.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
FINESSE. HROUGH the hot, dusty roads of Kansas a would-be homesteader was pursuing his way tu the Cherokee strip, in search of one of Uncle Sam's free homes. He had his family and goods in a shaky prairie-schooner, which was drawn by two feeble re ==) horses near dissolution. Pind z “Whar you bound?” asked a farmer at whose house he stopped for water. “Fer a hunderd an’ sixty acres o’ gover'ment land in th’ strip,” responded the traveler bombastically. A few months later the same man stopped again at the Kansas farmer's for water, this time traveling north. “Whatcher done with yer hunderd an’ sixty acres?” asked the farmer with a note of suspicion. “See them mules thar?” queried the homesteader, pointing to a fine pair of animals which was harnessed to the“ schooner.” “T traded eighty acres o' my claim fer ‘em.” “ Whatcher do with th’ other eighty?" pressed the farmer. “Don't give it away till I git further off. Th’ feller was a tenderfoot, an’ I run th’ other eighty acres in on ‘im without his knowin’ it. NOT IN THE RIGHT PLACE. +S THAT,” said a bicyclist to his friend as they bowled away from a road-house where they had spent the night, A HARD ONE TO SPOIL. ORATOR OF THE DAY (at the Cobbville woman-suffrage picnic)—"* Some says thet we “should be called the Misfihotel. There was hair in the food An" Mie acomer, MaPoitncie ha muay, Whe" ive ened in every county lestion nent th ‘ninety-one an’ I hain't spiled yit.” > fit Why, I've voted in every county ‘lection sence and none in the mattresses.’ A YACHTING TRIP. LONG the lonely strand I rove. Do you remember when o'erhead_ ine squall spread, dark and wide, You oid not show the slightest dread, But, clinging by my A thousand ages gone. 1e, Braved the wild wind’s rough bang and Avsiyoes sega lon ag that When I—oh, lucky chap !— ‘Was wont to wear your sailor-hat_ a, While'at each thunder-clap ‘And you my yachting cap. Theld on to your sailor-hat, ‘You to my yachting cap? On Spendrock’s yachting trip it was. Thated Aime for fairs An, this was bliss, for storms compelled And only went, sweetheart, because Spendrocks to flee below, POKER—A “FULL” HAND. ‘Three jacks and a pair of tens, You told me you'd be there. I know not where we sailed —what te Itude. by chart or map; But ob, I wore your sailor-hat ‘And you my yachting cap. The pretty Phryne! How she pushed Her saucy nose straight through The curling billows as they rushed In swirls of white and blue. His nautical ambition quelled, His pride and head laid low. Your mother too, sick as a cat, ‘She did not care a rap Whether I wore your sailor-hat, Or you my yachting cap. ‘Alay! that was the sweetest time fhat came ‘neath moon or sung Yet, with their impudence sublime, what the years have d You're Mrs. Spendrocks—yes,tha ‘And life ‘snot worth a soaps For now be wears your sailor-hat ‘And you his yachting cap. MADELINE 5 BRIDGES, A STERN REALITY. With all the steam calliope’s faults Farmer Green loves it “still.” comicbooks.com