Judge, 1901-12-21 · page 7 of 16
Judge — December 21, 1901 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several short satirical pieces typical of early 20th-century American humor: **"Couldn't Fool Him"**: A rural uncle visiting the city is shown a reservoir and asks how one tank produces both hot and cold water—he suspects his nephew is lying. The joke satirizes rural simplicity and the disconnect between country folk and urban infrastructure. **"The Limit"**: Two farmers worry about rising charges at a resort, suggesting class anxiety about leisure costs becoming unaffordable. **"Lapsus Linguae"** ("Slip of the Tongue"): A foreign count's broken English creates double meanings in a romantic exchange—typical humor mocking both immigrant accents and courtship pretense. **Other sketches**: Include jokes about servants' behavior, public officials being unhelpful, and a college athlete drinking from a sponge during sports. The overall tone reflects turn-of-the-century American attitudes: gentle mockery of rural naiveté, immigrant English, class differences, and institutional inefficiency. The artwork uses clear line drawings typical of Judge's style.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Tues (oth together)—"* He's mine, | tell yer? | saw him first."" COULDN'T FOOL HIM. NCLE Silas Meddergrass had been spending the week in the city with his nephew John, and had been vastly impressed with the conveniences of John’s bath-room—the hot and cold water supply, etc. One day John took his uncle about the city and showed him the big reservoir from which the water was drawn. “An’ does this here water run straight to your house, John?” asked Uncle Silas. “Yes, uncle.” “You git all your water from this here tank 2” “To be sure.” “Gitout, John! You can't fool your old uncle. I'd like to know how in thunder you can git hot an’ cold water out o' the same pond ?” Benkam—«V'm going to church to-morrow.” Mrs. Benham —* Don't forget to take the alarm-clock.” THE LIMIT. Farmer Poo: ville t'night ‘moon It's time to git out.” Figst sour-sitx sortie— There goes that sporty Mr. Cream Bottle. He never speaks to us any more. SECOND SOUR-MILK BOTTLE richer than we are."" “So I've noticed. | guess it’s because he's “ Well. Mandy, we better jest start back to Squash- ‘When they begin chargin’ ye fer lookin’ at the LAPSUS LINGUAE. The count —“Meess O'Nair, will you he please re- ceive my devotions? I loots you vid grande passion.” Miss Milly O'Nair “ But, count, will you serve me devotedly? You are times so austere.” The count some- I serfe him stewed, fried, on ze half — ha! what say 12 1 vould say I serfe you vid my heart all.” oe PUBLIC official,” ex- A claimed the ordinary man, heatedly, “should be our servant. But is he?” “Hardly,” ventured the suburbanite. "He stays with us too long for that.” Coutece yours man (ixipressing upon the ticular neatness)—"* Never serve water to me in a glass that has stood on the table over night, or has had a napkin In it. Do you hear?” aiter his par- player on the field hax had a pull at. ‘The same college young man on the gridiron, sucking a sponge that every comicbooks.com