Judge, 1901-04-20 · page 3 of 16
Judge — April 20, 1901 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This Judge page satirizes ethnic prejudice through a dialogue between "Young Doctor Smith" and "Mrs. Doctor Smith" about a patient. The joke hinges on racial assumptions: the wife assumes the angry patient must be Turkish, but the doctor reveals he's Greek—suggesting prejudice operates regardless of specific ethnicity. The main poems ("The Czar," "His Cogitation," "The Penalty," "In Minor Key") address Russian autocracy and legal inequality, likely referencing Tsarist oppression. Bottom sections present "Peter Grind Philanthropist," documenting wealthy men's charitable acts—possibly satirizing whether such philanthropy is genuine or self-serving publicity. The overall page critiques both ethnic stereotyping and questions the authenticity of elite benevolence.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
RACE PREJUDICE, Youxe Doctor Swirit —'*A patient got very angry the other day because I advised him to take a Turkish bath.” Mrs. Doctor Smirit don't see why anybody should get mad about that." Youn Doctor SmiTH —"* Well, this fellow was a Greek.” THE CZAR. THE Cear is an unhappy man. He must evade as best he can The subject that with dynamite Seeks daily to put out his light. How can his life be gay and glad When he’s a human iron-clad Made up that no assassin fierce May his sartorial metal pierce ? I'd rather drive a bob-tailed car ‘Than be his royal jags the Czar. ‘The Czar must duck and dodge, ween, ‘The wad of nitro-glycerine, And eke side-step the bolt elate ‘That makes the mark disintegrate. Within his metal chrysalis Perhaps he reeks with joy and bliss And dreams serenely on his cot, And yet methinks that he does not. If cocktails filled my samovar I would not be the mighty Czar. Alas ! he cannot drink in peace ‘The fizz that’s made of candle grease; Because he knows not just when he May through theshingles rise care free. All day and night his spirits droop, He thinks when he looks on the soup When it is red or green orbrown, ‘That it is fixed to knock him down And out ; and neath his iron quilts At night his spirit wilts and wilts, No, no,'neath fortune’s brightest star T wouldn't care to be the Czar. HIS FAVORITE, ALate. (on Ais wheel) —"* You a college graduate? What's the Latin for‘ Llove"?” Fxaveb FacIn — Spiritus fermenti.” —" Why, don't you know that means whisky?” Fravep FAGIN (moving off —* Well, dat's w'ot I love.” __ Punk Centre, Iowa, April 3rd.—Uncle Jim flint, of this place, a reputed millionaire well-known throughout Southern Iowa, put a dollar in the col- lection- plate at the Methodist church yesterday. Great excitement prevailed. HIS COGITATION. 66YVE WOULD consider “Sentenced for Life’ a very appropriate heading for our marriage notice corner,” musing- ly said the able editor of the Pettyville Plaindealer, “were it not for the fact that we have often seen the courts commute the sentences and observed that it very seldom required good behavior to obtain the commuta- THE PENALTY. UPID one time stole a heart, Said the gods assembled “ He must suffer for his part,” Cupid forthwith trembled, Punishment must fit the crime, Was their high endeavor : Cupid now is serving time Breaking stones forever. MC LANDBURGH WILSON, IN MINOR KEY. Mike —* Sure, Pat, and it wud be a ferful thing to be one of thim miners.” Pat—* And phy is thot, Mike?" Mike — Jist lis'en to this : ‘There is now no state in the Union in which a minor can buy whisky!" SANITY A \\ \ Mi PETER GRIND PHILANTHROPIST. A FEW CASES OF TRUE PHILANTHROPY. Clay City, Wisconsin, March 3oth.—Peter Grind, a wealthy real estate owner of this city, has promised to buy an iron hitching-post for the new library build- ing if the town will pay the freight. The freight will cost more than the post, but the citizens have held a mass meeting and voted Mr. Grind their thanks for such unexpected generosity. to-night, Whistleville, Ohio, April gth.—Lemuel Squeezer, a citizen of this town, whose wealth is estimated at five hundred thousand dollars, bought his wife a new spring bonnet yesterday, the first she has had in eighteen years, Mayor Whipple has hoisted the flag over the court-house, and the band will be out