Judge, 1900-04-21 · page 7 of 18
Judge — April 21, 1900 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several short humorous pieces typical of early 20th-century American satire: **"The Age of Convenience"** mocks modern church comfort, joking that pews have become so comfortable that alarm-clocks might be needed to wake sleeping parishioners during sermons—satirizing both the softening of religious discipline and contemporary obsession with labor-saving devices. **"The Wrong Clew"** depicts a country minister chasing what he assumes is a couple seeking marriage, only to discover they're siblings—poking fun at small-town gossip and misunderstandings. **"True Prediction"** shows a woman robbed after visiting a fortune-teller, then paying gas bills—suggesting the "real fortune-teller" is the gas company extracting money, a dig at utility companies' perceived greed. The remaining pieces are lighter: Easter poetry, dragon/princess humor about cooking, and a rat admiring an Easter egg. The overall tone reflects Judge's blend of social commentary, domestic humor, and gentle mockery of contemporary American life and institutions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE FIRST FLOWERS. RTH will be drear,” the good All- Father said, “If beauty gladden not the pass- ing hours.” And lo! while sullen desolation fled God made the flowers. ea0ta c. down. THE AGE OF CON- VENIENCE. Mrs, Waggles —" Church- pews are much more comfortable than they used to be.” Waggles— Yes, | wouldn't be surprised if some day they were fitted with alarm-clocks to wake you up when the sermon is over.” THE WRONG CLEW Pity the sorrows of a poor country minister! He has been following this couple about town all dav, thinking they were looking for somebody to marry them, and finally learns (from Jeb Martin, who knows everybody for fifty miles around) that they are brother and sister, AT EASTER-TIDE. USIC and crowds, and day a perfect flower A-blossom from its calyx, night; And we two, captives of the witch: ing hour, Lulled in its leash of song and light. Refore the altar, like the mom's white soul, 1 ‘The lilies breathe their fragrant —" Well -looki ge TN just prayer; Rat—" Weil, you're a good-looking egg. I'll just And all the air is quick with dreams TRUE PREDICTION. they toll From Apnil’sfancy-haunted lair. N HER trouble she sought a fortune-teller, and the fortune-teller told her of misfortune. J the dealer in futures, “ be robbed. Dim hopes and thrills, too vague for word of tongue, And strange insistent moods of loom, As if some strain that Persian Omar sung Were prisoned in their sweet perfume. er's den straight to the gas-oflice, where she paid a bill amounting to seventeen dollars and eighty toa lanky clerk with black hair and eyes. Or were our souls at some far Easter-tide, Of which to-day is still a part, Before the altar folded side by side Within one lily’s golden heart? JOMN DAML WHITE, —erack your skull, — GE i% eae IN YE EARLY DAY Dracox—" Say, princess, T wish you wouldn't cook onions any more. 1 don't like the taste.” —Whew! That was a bad egg.” comicbooks.com