Judge — April 2, 1904 — page 2: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LO pete Western Apveerising O1 PUBLISHED WEEKLY At THe Parken Buripivc, FounTn AVENUE AND NINETEENTH StRKET, NEw Youg. 1313 Hartford Building, Chicago, Mt. TERMS TO SUBSCRIBERS: UNITED STATES AND CANADA IN ADVANCE. One copy, one year, orsznumbers- = ‘One copy, six months Ove 3, of 2 numbers - copy, for thirteen weeks Including the Cumistsas Juba FOREIGN SUBSCRIPTIONS—To all foreign countries in the postal anion, $6.00 a year. EUROPEAN SALnS-AGENTS—/nternational News Company, Bream's building, Chancery Lane, , London ; Brentano's, Avenue del’ Opera, Pari ; Starback's News Exchange, Mains, Germany. The contents of FUDGE are protected by copyright in both the United States and Great Britain. Infringement of this copyright will be promptly and bigorously prosecuted. CONTRIBUTORS must inclose a stamped and self-addressed erfoelope with all manascripts, otherwise return of the Latter when found unsrvailaNte cannot be guaranteed. DRAWINGS and all contributions sent to the Art Department should have the sender's full name and address ‘written piatniv on each and every separate sketch. The accompanying juke or descriptive letterpress should in ébery instance be written upon its indtoidaal picture, and NOT upon a separate slip of paper. Inclosure of stamps to the full amount of postage (s also required, (0 insure safe and prompt return of material not accepted. |OW from the dusty chrysalis the baseball piayer pops in bliss, while in the pool the gamin swims; along the green the swallow skims; the violets in beauty blow and point the way the shekels go. The trout leaps fiercely for the hook; the tadpole wriggles in the brook. No more the tennis-bat we see a-hanging on the willow-tree, for now it sends the ball, alas, alack ! across the twinkling grass. The heifer kicks with joy indeed, and romps around the dewy mead. The bluebird in the larch is seen, the bullfrog flaunts his tambourine; and from Be-ersheba to Dan the circus- poster, spick and span, quite arabesques and filigrees the wayside barn, and by degrees we fancy, while we jump and cheer, that spring, the dear old girl, is here. eee WHeN IT COMES to a question of territorial expansion Russia may be safely calculated upon as having a perpetual cast-iron appetite equal to that of any wolf that ever caracoled along the rim of her coldest snowdrift. Russia is a firm believer in and a vigorous champion of the reach- ing-out and gathering-in principle, and if she could but have her imperial way the bear would stretch and spread himself from China to Great Brit- ain and back again, and thereby cover Asia and Europe. It is pleasant to reflect on the fact that the Russian bear can never be spread out in this fashion unless it be as a rug. Be this as it may, the gaunt quadruped is quite as much under foot to-day as the navy for which he stands is under water. And the Jap is still camping on his trail and making him anything but happy. It therefore does not look as if the map of Russia is likely to do any material spreading out at the present stage of the game. It is quite possible, on the contrary, that it may be compelled to shrink, after the manner of the all-wool undershirt of commerce, that will cover a giant to- day and a baseball to-morrow. If the bear could but stretch his anatomy as he stretches his elastic imagination, Europe and Asia would be one and his. Knowing and appreciating this fact, as every intelligent person does, it is not at all remarkable that the world is wreathed in smiles. Because the world sees the way the war is going, which is not Russia’s, but the right way. We trust that it may continue to go in the same direction until the Japanese triumph is as pronounced as the Russian generals’ names are unpronounceable, and the bear has been humbled and brought down to the level of his stuffed brother, that stands like a wooden Indian before a cigar-store. eee THE PRINCETON PERI, sometimes known as Grover Cleveland, seems to be sorely perturbed and perplexed, while viewing with alarm, of course, the general attitude of his party toward him. His face is cob- webbed with the long-drawn lines that prove beyond all cavil that the oleaginous oracle is most deeply and sincerely in sympathy with himself. When we read between the aforesaid facial lines it is not difficult to arrive at the painful conclusion that there is a wild, mysterious something that does not set well on the old gentleman’s mental stomach. His thoughts, be they forebodings of the direst kind, or be they the rosiest of gilt-edged fancies, the fact remains, and must remain, that they will neither digest nor assimilate, and consequently the pensive prophet is quite undone and at odds with the fate with whose propitious smile he is not gilded to any great or alarming extent. To the lay mind he seems to be in need of one thing only—a good, solid dose or two of calomel, calculated to restore him to his usual condition of friskiness and to put him in fine trim to skip an airy saraband of joy to the lyric gurgle of the Princeton bluebirds. But the student of affairs who is not a political expert knows full well that Mr. Cleveland’s expression of dismay, not to say lostness, is brought about by the unnatural physical strain he has put upon himself in an effort to ascer- tain whether or not his party is calling him. He has been listening long and hard and with a patience that is simply beautiful. In his attitude, which is one that savors of a divine despair, there is a subtle beauty that glorifies and kalsomines Mr. Cleveland from head to foot, including his sartorial trappings, through which the winds have been discoursing weird and ghostly melodies for the last eight years. He has been out in the Political cold all this time, and he naturally lifts his voice in lamentation and supplication, for he would come in and enjoy the genial glow of the rosy hearth, and come in on the fly, if his party would but call him. His ears are open, and his hands are wrapped about them like funnels, for he is anxious, even to the verge of despair, for the blare of the Democratic bazpo to fall upon his chaste and gentle spirit and lift him into the beautiful realm that is known only to the winner of the presidential nomination. \ Maiaegy WOULD MAKE GOOD USE OF IT. Lapy—"'I suppose if | gave you a dollar you would spend it for rum." Euree BarryL—“ Not much, lady: when | died.” I'd give It to Charley Schwab fer some uy his gilt-edged stocks, get rich on de dividends, an’ leave you a fortune comicbooks.com