Judge, 1901-03-23 · page 10 of 16
Judge — March 23, 1901 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**"A Hard Line"** (top): A joke about a dishonest laundress. Mrs. Jonesbury seeks a reference for her laundress, noting she's good at ironing but "abstracts things"—a euphemism for stealing. Her husband quips she's "fully qualified for the iron and steal business," punning on her ironing skills and actual theft. **"Love Letters of an Irishwoman"** (main feature): A satirical piece mocking both a sensationalist book and Irish-American working-class culture. The excerpt showcases deliberately crude dialect and melodramatic, misspelled content (a "young lady" named Ellen Ryan's passionate letter to "Mike"). The satire targets literary pretension—publishing houses marketing crude materials as serious literature—while also stereotyping Irish immigrants through exaggerated vernacular and references to Tammany Hall politics and ethnic social venues. **"In Fertile Soil"** (sidebar): A brief ethnic joke playing on Irish stereotypes about potatoes and Ireland ("the old sod"). The overall tone reflects *Judge* magazine's urban, establishment perspective mocking working-class immigrant culture.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A MM GIO UII usa "i i A HARD LINE. Mrs. Jonrsnurv—" Our laundress wants me to give her a reference. She is a good ironer, but she certainly does abstract things.” Mr. Jonesnury—" Well, just say she is fully qualified for the iron and steal business.” Ellen Ryan,” is merely a nom-de-plume. The best and most humanly characteristic document of the batch is No. 4-11-44, in which the unselfish heart of the authoress thus exudes : “Dear Mike—Next time I see’ you I'll hand yer out'a couple of good ones, Mamie told me she see yer at the dance of the ‘Chop Suey Circle at Tammany Hall last night. ‘That ain't no square deal fer me. I thot I was yer steady. Mect me outside of Muldoon’s on Saterday night or I'll lay fer yer and give yer a good showin’ up when yer wid the gang. Pete vas to the house last night and bought mixed ale fer pop. ‘There was a row and I got a black eye. I like yer best of all the fellers although yer are a harp. Me tailor made is nearly ready, and if yer take me to Coney on Sunday it'll be all off and I'll fergive yer. Does yer remember the rag- time spiel we had on the fort ward’s picnic? Ah, them was happy days! Don’t give me no more stand offs. If yer don’t come to time I'll jack yer up fer fair. IN FERTILE SOIL. “Shure, McGinnis, an’ your face is a regular map av Ireland.” * Roight ye are, Larry, an’ I be plantin’ pataties in the old sod.” nap * > AREY LOVE LETTERS OF AN IRISHWOMAN. TAN Nain WEAN LUT « SN) 4. ST LITERARY circles of. Tompkins square are highly wrought up over the mystery vin i Wie ) Mt of the authorship of the newly published volume, “ Love Letters of an Irish- woman.” Mr. Hooligan, the well- known publisher, declines to reveal the name of the gifted authoress, and he is besieged with innumerable inquiries ‘on this point. The mis- sives themselves, while the picturesque vern: ular of Oriental New York, as spoken by the dwellers of the trop would be impossible ina lim- ited space to do justice to the depth of soul which the writings reflect. The passionate elation, intense co mental suffering, bitter enmity, and ONLY ONE LEFT. : strenuous expression which thread the Jupce OwL—" You have been found guiity and pee apt weeee : Mrs, Worm —"t My goodness, that young lady court sentences you to life imprisonment for Story told in the epistolary effusions, make just said mv house was toiten. Why, its the bet cight of your nine lives.” thrilling reading. The signature, * Mary comicbooks.com