Judge, 1899-10-07 · page 7 of 16
Judge — October 7, 1899 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Judge* contains multiple unrelated satirical pieces typical of the magazine's format. **"The Cause of It All"**: A poem celebrating a local baseball team's victory, humorously suggesting their win has magically improved everyone's mood and made people forget their troubles—the "home nine" (baseball team) winning causes universal joy. **"Pocahontas Story"**: The title references a famous historical narrative, but the cartoon appears to use it ironically as a heading for the baseball celebration piece, likely a playful non-sequitur. **"At the Class Reunion"**: A joke about a wealthy Yale alumnus (Kidd) who bragged about winning a yachting cup; the punchline reveals he won it through having the class's first son, a satirical jab at upper-class privilege. **"High-Ball Victim"**: A dialect humor piece where an elderly former pitcher attributes his decline not to overuse (the "well" worn out) but to frequenting saloons too often—satirizing alcohol abuse's effects. The page emphasizes baseball enthusiasm, class commentary, and period-typical ethnic/dialect humor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
wuapge THE CAUSE OF IT ALL. EE how the stars come trip — ping out, Winking the other eye, While fleecy clouds in merry rout Godanting through the sky, And milkmaids on the milky way Put the pale moon to shame. The reason is as plain as day— Our’ home nine s won a game. THE TRUTH OF THAT POCAHONTAS STORY. The miser now forgets his greed, The business man bis stocks ; The minister forgets his creed, The pawnbroker his “hocks.” The maid forgets her lover bold ; The halt, the blind, the lame Forget their ills. The story 's told— Our home nine 's won a AT THE CLASS REUNION. Jones—" What became of Kidd, “ninety-seven—the yachting enthu- siast, you know? He used to say he'd win the cup.” Smith—“ Well, he won it. His was the first boy born to a member of the class.” SEASIDE PASTIME. DOWN by the restless, angry sea, Where the breakers crash and roar And flying gulls scream mad with glee At the elements’ fierce war; Safe from the waves that wildly dash, We sit on the moonlit sands, Holding our breaths at each loud crash, And likewise each other's hands, WAL swirT, JACK OF HEARTS, CHANCES AGAINST HIM. “6 H4x¢ the luck!" exclaimed the new inmate of Sing Sing, sentenced for life for man- slaughter. “What's the matter?” inquired the attendant. “Why, they've given me thirteen for my number, and I'll bet now that I'll never get out of here alive.” . A “HIGH-BALL” VICTIM. GarcLine GronEcaN—'*An’ so yer wuz a great league pitcher in yer day, ch? Same ole story, I s'pose, ‘bout de ‘ pitcher w'ot went too often to de well w'ot get's broke at last Guassarm Guzzter- I'd been all rite ef I'd went to a well often, but it wuz de goin’ to a serloon so often w’ot broke dis pitcher.”