Judge, 1904-01-16 · page 3 of 16
Judge — January 16, 1904 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces from *Judge* magazine: **Top section ("A Delicate Refusal"):** A romantic narrative where Miss Lotsofit refuses a poor inventor's marriage proposal, insisting wealth matters. The inventor argues he has "two ideals in life—you and my air-ship," but she demands financial security. The satire mocks both materialistic women and impractical inventors of the era. **Bottom section ("Another Insult"):** A dinner scene where a boarding mistress proudly serves "Belgian-hare hash," while Mr. Parsup responds he's fond of "Belgian hair—on the head." This is a crude double-entendre joke about Belgian food/appearance, typical of period humor. The dialogue between Ebenezer and George above concerns similar working-class banter about wages and cleanliness. The page satirizes class pretensions, materialism, and features period-typical comedic vulgarity.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A DELICATE REFUSAL. 6¢A\AISS LOTSOFIT,” trembled the youth as he parted from her at the door, * there is something I must say to you.” « Proceed,” she urged him with an encouraging smile. “Though I am now only a poor inventor,” he stammered, “yet my air- ship is nearer perfection than I—I have but two ideals in life—you and my air-ship. Will you marry me?” She was silent. “Do not answer too quickly,” he begged. “Take time to think it over. I will come again for my answer. May 1?" “Yes,” she told him, “Come again—come in your air-ship.” That night two footpads were seriously affronted by a man who utterly ignored their requests that he halt, but kept stonily on his way, his head down and his shoulders up. ever, Luc. Ebenezer— Say, Gawge, whar wuz yo gwine tudder day when I saw yo gwine ter mill?” George—" Gwine ter mill, ob ‘cose. see yo’. Ebenezer—1 neber seed yo’ nudder till yo" go an’ den, ef I hadn't a-seed yo’, | wouldn't ‘a’ node yo Whar wuz yo’ at? I didn’t lean outen sight, WHAT SHE EXPECTED. He—" It is true that | am poor, but then wealth is a great care."* Sue—"' Oh, well, | shall expect more or less care from the man I marry." THE CLIMAX, A HAUGHTY smile curled the patri- cian lips of the fair Hilga as she stood at the head of the grand staircase, gazing scornfully down to the tessellated floor of the grand hall- way. Careless- ly she rested her firm,white hand upon the pedestal of a marvelously carved statu- ette in Carrara marble, while her eyes took on astern gaze as she peered into the dim- ly-lighted sweep of the richly - decorated vesti- bule. With a half sigh she swept down the stairway and on through the hall, only to be stopped by Mad- am Conestogah. “ Hilga,” said Madam Conestogah, “you would better sweep down the stairs again. You skipped two or three steps at the landing. And when you finish that go out and sweep off the porch.” “ Ay wal,” said Hilga, gripping the broom tightly and thinking of giving notice that afternoon. seTHE corkscrew,” said the white-haired philosopher, has been one of the greatest aids to temperance.” «Nonsense !" answered the hook-nosed disputant. “Why, the corkscrew is one of the first things a man wants when he thinks of taking a drink.” “know; but he has always mislaid or lost it, and frequently he can’t find another.” ANOTHER INSULT. Boanpina mistress—' My new Belgian cook prepared this Belgtan-hare hash." Mr. Paveurp—"' And I'm fond of Belgian hair, too—on the head."* comicbooks.com