Judge, 1902-08-23 · page 14 of 16
Judge — August 23, 1902 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes President Theodore Roosevelt's famous persona as an action hero and man of relentless vigor. "Gaston le Strenuous" is a transparent parody—"strenuous" directly references Roosevelt's "strenuous life" philosophy. The serialized adventure story mocks Roosevelt's tendency to insert himself into dramatic situations and his reputation for hyperbolic storytelling. The absurd plot—single-handedly defeating a Bengal tiger, then 53 swordsmen, then escaping from prison—exaggerates Roosevelt's actual big-game hunting and adventurous exploits into comic fantasy. The references to "pea-green cardinal" and French settings parody Roosevelt's romanticized view of heroism and adventure. The overall joke is that Roosevelt's public image had become so outsized and self-promotional that it could only be adequately satirized through increasingly ridiculous melodrama. The page also contains unrelated advertisements, typical for Judge magazine.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
§ t | on it."—Cincinnaty Tribu IN DANGER’S HOUR. BEING A TRUE ACCOUNT OP ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY MINUTES IN THE LIPE OP GASTON LE STRENUOUS. ME," “THE STOVEPIPE OF “THE CONCEIT OP OMAHA.” PAPA, r WAS a mild morning in April, 1610, around ten o'clock, when I, Gaston le Strenuous, arrived at tl outskirts of the capital of Buritani: I was speculating on my chances of future greatness when I observed a cloud of dust rapidly approaching. Nearer and nearer it rolled, and nearer and nearer the thunder of hoofs re- sounded. At length a fiery jennet One glance at the fair rider’s face revealed to me Eliza- beth de Sauterne-Moselle, whose im- age was destined never to fade from flashed into view. my heart. When opposite where I stood the noble stced fell exhausted. But a few paces behind in frantic | sped the form of a royal Bengal tiger. It sufficed but an instant to dismount, and the ready sword of my ancestors The combat flashed in the sunlight. was strenuous. Backward and for- ward we swayed. Finally the tawny beast grasped the sword and wrenched it from my hands, when with a last despairing effort I seized him by the throat and, bending his head back- ward, broke his neck. Scarce had the combat terminat- ed and I was resting from my labors when suddenly as though sprung from the earth there encircled me a troop of horse whose badge, the famous two crossed, sky-blue mackerel rampant, bore sufficient testimony to the fact that they were the minions of him whom men then named with bated breath as the “ pea-green cardinal.” “Ha! what is this?” exclaimed the Jeader, in whom I was not at a loss to perceive the notorious ruffian, Chi latrousse de la Vin Ordinaire. ‘A vio- lation of the edicts relative to the kill- ing of Bengal tigers! Surrender, cai- tiff!” “Never,” I cried, and the attack began. They were fifty-three of the most renowned swordsmen in Europe, so it took fully ten minutes before they were placed hors de combat. As my dagger was clicking mer- rily against the gorget of the last I accidentally paused to note the wor- ried look which was spreading over the fair face of Mlle. de Sauterne- Moselle. Like a flash the situation presented itself to me. A similarity. of feature, form and bearing revealed that unwittingly I was about to slay her brother-in-law. “S'death,” I cried, “young man, your life is spared. ’ “But not my honor, gadzooks," he answered. “I had sworn to take thee alive.” “Gramercy for thy courtesy,” and we were about to re-engage when the pleading expression of my loved one’s countenance determined me. “My sword, i'faith, I will never surrender,” I cried, breaking it across my knee. “But, fair youth, I follow As the iron doors of the royal prison for inebriates clanged behind, “It ought not to be a hard matter to overcome that railroad freight tie-up in Chicago."” low can it be done?” “Turn the mashers loose ps RY THE AUTHOR OF ‘WILL'YUM AND. TO GET AND TO HANG ON TO," AND I indeed felt that all hope had de- parted. Thrust into a narrow cell half full of water and half of air I be- in speculating on the chances of escape. But one opportunity pre- sented itself. Unbuckling my strong leather belt -I detached the buckle, which was soon fashioned into a serviceable pickaxe. Ten feet of solid granite were soon pierced, and before my friend the warden again passed on his rounds I was swinging by the leather thong over one hundred feet of space. A quick drop into the moat and I breathed the air of freedom, But not for long. Cannon-balls rained around me as I sped up the street. I count it no cowardice that I did not stop to pick up my hat, which one had knocked off. Turning into a narrow street I was congratulating myself when a noise like thunder pealed forth. Huge cracks opened in the pavement. Trapped at last. I had unwarily en- tered upon a section of the city where a rapid-transit road was being con structed. Suddenly, after a frantic effort to regain my footing, I fell into} a yawning cavern that opened before me. When I awoke all was darkness. The damp earth encompassed me close about, but by strenuous exer- tions I finally managed to wriggle| first one, then all ten toes. And now) began a forward burrowing which was necessarily slow. One, two, three, four, and five miles were toilsomely traveled within the bowels of the arth. At length a stone wall seemed to bar further progress. Wrenching away a giant bowlder, however, I fell forward into a damp void. One glance around sufficed to convince me that I was in the dungeon of the pal- ace. Had I but exchanged a Scylla for a Charybdis? But soon the sound of voices re- called me to myself. The speaker could be none other than the pea- green cardinal. “For reasons of state,” he was saying, “it is expedient that King Bardolph die.” A click of steel seemed to give answer. Remembering the sage advice of my second cousin one remove, never to count odds, I phinged ‘at them. A noble fight-we had in that grim old dungeon. The last of the dozen bravi was but rendering his expiring sigh when lights flashed and the king en- tered with Mlle. de Sauterne-Moselle on his arm, “Hal what is it, methinks I see? | Treason! Take this as an eternal evidence of thy sovereign’s gratitude,” and he joined our hands. One instant our entire being surged up within us. “My love, my queen,” I said; “Gas- ton, my king,” she answered. “And now,” said our gracious liege, “it being just twelve o'clock, let us to dinner.” 1M. GERALD CHAPON, Patience—"She says she just loves the surf. “Well, Patrice- I saw her swallow some of it yesterday while bathing, and $3,0000° ... Photographs There are several millions of our Photographic Lenses and Shutters In use in all parts of the world. They are said to be the best made anywhere. 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