Judge, 1903 · page 12 of 20
Judge — 1903 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains multiple satirical cartoons mocking social conventions and contemporary concerns of the era (appears to be early 1900s): **"A Winner"** jokes about billiards terminology as courtship code—the woman hasn't learned the "balk-line" (pool rules) apply to romance. **"Not So Any More"** satirizes overzealous reformers obsessed with germ theory, now seeing contamination in everything, even intellectual pursuits. **"A Query"** is a pun: a girl asks a butcher about her missing poodle-dog; he responds "I never sausage a beast"—wordplay on "saw such." **"In Training"** depicts a man violently misinterpreting tailor measurements (44, 12, 16, 10, 39) as football signals to "buck the centre," attacking everyone. **"Getting Square"** shows an Irish immigrant boy hitting an Irish opponent, then later his father threatening reduced payment if the boy retaliates—dark humor about ethnic violence and economic desperation. The humor relies on puns, malapropisms, and stereotypes common to period American satire.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A WINNER. 66\J/HEN you pucker your lips that way,” says the bil- liardist to his sweetheart, “it is my cue for a kiss.” “Is it?" she smiles, « Well, I don’t carom many you take.” For she had not yet learned the additional interest that may be given the game by the estab- lishment of a balk-line. NOT SO ANY MORE. 4s TO THE pure all things are pure,” we remark sagely to the gentle-faced reformer. + Bless you, no !"" he responds, “Not since they have made such marked advance in the search for germs.” And we leave him disinfect- ing an essay on the higher life. A QUERY. * Where, oh, where, has my poodle-dog gone?” Sobbed the girl to a butcher out east. “Search me!"" said the butch in discouraging tone. “I never sausage a beast.” A DIFFERENT TUNE. THE pleasant autumn days are here once more. We sing a song to the October skics ; We're bound to mention, as we poctize, ‘The barren trees, sere leaves, and all the store Of images that average bards adore. We bid farewell to o’er-insistent flies, Mosquitoes that to murderous business rise, And all the hosts of summer pests galore. We dream of how a winter-coat to get, ‘And know we have to stick to beans and hash To purchase this or that so needed thing. ‘The price of coal just now doth make us fret, A MATRIMONIAL TRUTH. ‘And now we work and work to save the cash “ But ye surely know yer own rolghts, Pat? To pay the bills that Yule is sure t “'Yis, Moike: but marriage is a shtate phere roights hov no roights."* KATHAN M, IN TRAINING. gf ORTY-FOUR ! calls the tailor to his assistant, who is jotting down a customer's measure- ments. “Twelve, six- teeri, ten, thirty-nine!” he continues. The stalwart cus- tomer, whose face wears an absent-minded look, flushes somewhat and clinches his fists. “Thirty-nine, twen- ty-two, sixteen, forty- ] five, forty-two" The stalwart customer whoops wildly, grasps the tailor about the waist, throws him over against the clerk, yelps savagely, and springs into the air, coming down on top of the two and rubbing their forms into the floor. After some moments of strug- gling the tailor and his assistant are per- mitted to get to their feet. The stalwart customer rubs himself foolishly and at- tempts an apology. *1—I—I hope you will pardon me, but Iwas thinking of the game, and you give GETTING SQUARE. aptain’s si; Izzy, ‘ader. dot Irisher boy made for me a smash in der face. O-o-o—o-o-h!"" our football captain's signal to buck the Izzy, ae Dontcher care, ein sohn. ‘Vhen his fader comes in Monday mit his silfer vatch to hock | centre.’ gif him dis veek feefty cents less." . comicbooks.com