Judge, 1903-01-03 · page 6 of 16
Judge — January 3, 1903 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains multiple unrelated satirical items typical of Judge magazine's format: **"Not Eligible"** mocks patent medicine advertising. A patient reads testimonial symptom-blanks that perfectly match his ailments, but refuses the "cure" because he's not a famous person—the testimonials come only from "actors, statesmen, [and] preachers." The satire targets both fraudulent medicine marketed through celebrity endorsements and the absurdity of excluding ordinary people from fake cures. **"Unnecessary Warning"** briefly mocks spousal nagging about safe driving ("don't speed that horse"). **"A Fable"** satirizes Boston's literary pretensions: a poor poet is arrested for selling unlicensed poetry and having feet that don't meet library weight standards. It jokes that hunger, not talent, drives poetry-writing. Additional short jokes mock minor poets, marital misunderstandings about age, and landlord disputes. The page is primarily humor content with no identifiable political figures—just social satire about American life, medicine, literature, and relationships circa early-20th century.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
NOT ELIGIBLE. said the affable agent, “are a-lot of testimonials and symptom-blanks for our renowned panacea.” The prospective patient and patron looked them over. « Floating specks before the eyes,” he mused ; “T've seen them often.+ Dull pains in the back and head—that's-me exactly. Ringing in the “ ears—mine ring all the time. Occasional numb- ness of the arm or limb—mine 's numb right this minute. Shortness of breath and feeling of gone- ness at the pit of the stomach—well, if that isn’t me to adot! Couldn't have hit it off better if the man that got this up had been watching me for years, I tell you I believe this medicine would be just the thing for me if it weren't for one ob- stacle that occurs to me as I look at this array ot testimonials from people who have been cured.” “T don’t quite understand,” says the agent. “Why, I'm oui of its class. I'm neither an actor, a statesman, nor a preacher.” a1\AN ie \ x \ S UNNECESSARY WARNING. Mrs. Hosuxins—'* Now, you, John Hoshkins! remember this is the sabbath day an’ don't you go speedin’ that horse."" THE trouble with some modern trains of progress is that they carry the head-light on the rear car. A FABLE. NCE upon:a time there was a young Boston poet who in- sisted upon hawking his wares without taking outa poetic license. For this, and because his feet did not conform to the standard of weights and measures maintained at the public library, he was con- ducted interiorly—that is to say, run in—by the Boston police. Moral—Any one can write poetry if he's hungry enough, but it takes genius to get it published. ‘TIS EVER THUS. HIE, sorrows of a minor bard I plaintively rehearse, A very little poet wrote is very little verse. He tried so hard t do his best— But could the thing be worse? USELESS TO HER. $6 HOLLY has room to let in his upper story,” said Miss HIS LUCK. wi on Pa a " Frocks to Miss Kittish. ip. Newurweo—" When we were married you said you were eightee . ; ; Mrs. NewLywep—"' Well, do you mean to insinuate that | was older ? “But 1 don't wish: tosrenta Mr. Newuyweo—" Oh, no; but from my luck since I've thought perhaps you were thirteen."* at,” added the latter. NO. 22.—THE WONDERFUL DOINGS. OF MARVELOUS THOMAS. smarty have drawn here Uncle Rube on a windy day, and with a few more iw sattog he test menace” comicbooks.com