Judge — July 23, 1904 — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

FOREIGN SUPSCRIPTIO Homrnan Satns-aGents—International News Company, Bream's building, Chancery Lane, EC. London : Brentano's, Avenue de!" Opera, Pa The contents of FUDGE are protected by copyright tn both the United States and Great Britain, At Tae Parkxn Boripixc, Fou! Wastmxn Apvextisinc Ornice— 1373 UNITED STATES AND CANADA One copy, one year, or s2 numbers - $5.00 One £09) 1% OF 26 numbers = 2.90 (One copy, for thirteen weeks 1235 PUBLISIL ED WEEKLY RNUK AND NINKTRENTH STUKET, New Youn. rd Building, Chicago, Hk. TERMS TO SURSCRIT ADvance. Including the Cuustatas JuncE. —To all foreign countries in the postal union, $5.00 a year. Suarhach's News Exchange, Mains, Germany. Infringement of this copyright wall be promotly and bigorousty prosecuted. CONTRIBUTORS must inctose a stamped and self-addressed entvelone with all manuscripts, otherwise return of the Latter when found unarpailae cannot be guaranteed. DRAWINGS and all contributions sent to the Art Department should have the sender's full name and address Yoritten plainly on each and every separate sketch. The accompanying foke or descriptive letter-press should in ébery instance be written upon its indroidual picture, and NOT upon a separate slip of paper. Inclosure of stamps to the full amount of postage ts also required, 10 insure safe and prompt return of material not accepted. Now on the freezing coast of Maine the well-built maiden, shy and cute, Hies to the surf with joy insane, clad in her sealskin bathing-suit. Some of the many alleged Americans who make it a source of great joy to build an establishment that is a duplicate or a travesty of some his- toric feudal pile in England should not fail to purchase what is left of the Democratic party, to be used on some part of the demesne as a ruins that would be absolutely unique. Ivy might, like the woodbine, be caused to twine about its perennial spout, which would, of course, be that of the Nebraska blatherskite. THE CAVE of political echo is now reeking with the silence that im- presses while it gnaws. The murky solitude is a gloom composed of many misty shadows, from which the rhythm of life is conspicuous by its absence. On the shores of this phantomless domain are scattered the frag- ments of many busted booms, which, if they could, would sob a tale of woe more bitter, i€ possible, than that of Bryan, who, moping in the woodshed of his discontent, beats his breast ever and anon and murmurs sepulchrally, “Woe is me!” T SEEMS that there are preferred and common Democrats, and that at the present time the Parker brand seems to enjoy the prestige of supremacy, such as it is. The bucolic jurist, it seems, has undertaken the difficult experiment of steering the craft of 1904 in the direction of the white- house pote; and, as a sportsman would put it, it is safe betting that he will never reach the goal of his quest. He may be a good steersman, and he may be full of pluck and determination; but he has been singularly unfor- tunate and unhappy in his selection of a crew. Even with the Democratic donkey as a mascot, his chances of success are too slim to stand without the aid of crutches. The Parker boat is now swashing and floundering between the Scylla of free silver and the Charybdis of free trade, and we trust, with a feeling of pure sympathy, that the axes of the craft are not so firmly nailed and riveted to their places but that they may be taken down, and also that the life-preservers are not filled with pulverized cork. When FAULTY TO THE END. ** So ole Si Slocum has paid the debt of nature, has he?” “Yes. Si drank a dose of carbolic acid by mistake fer licker." “Gosh! I knew if Si had paid a debt it must have been by mistake.” Mr. Parker's race has been made, we trust that physically he may not be any the worse for wear; but we fan- cy his feelings will be identical with those of the English yachtsman aft- er his craft has made an all-day study of the rear elevation of the American yacht in a wild attempt to lift the coveted cup. THERE IS no doubt but that the Democratic Port Arthur is im- pregnable, in all that the term im- plies, in the estimation of the Demo- cratic managers, leaders, high- priests, soothsayers, palmists, fire worshipers, and all the other func- tionaries and big guns connected with that picturesque aggregation of mixed pickles. That they have done all in their power to make their Port Arthur a stronghold against which nothing can prevail must go without saying. While it is quite likely that their fortifications are not of a Buddensieck style of construc- tion, it is not going beyond the limitations of reasonable conjecture to conclude that their forts were not passed upon and declared to be all that they should be by the General Slocum inspectors. The Demo- cratic Port Arthur is as safely and soundly put together as it is possible for the Democratic craftsmen to put anything together; and they are quite as successful in building up as they are in pulling down, although they not infrequently, while attempting to build up, pull down better than they know. Each of them is as subtle as the serpent that put the quietus on Eve, and in so doing be- came responsible for the advent of ‘the gown-builder and the hatsmith, and each of them has done his best to make the Port Arthur of his party a thing beside which the rock of Gibraltar is a mere circus-tent of flimsiness. It will be on exhibition, like a Coney-island attraction, until November, and the Democratic ex- Ponents of tariff-reform and fifty- six-cent-dollarism are hugging them- selves with joy, and will continue to do so, while their champions are braying on the stump from one end of the country to the other. But the Democratic hopes and the Dem- ocratic dreams will be shattered and scattered like the autumn leaves at just about the time that the pig is tipe and the popcorn pops. Then will the Democratic seers and sages sit down and weep on the banks of the Democratic Babylon, while the timbrels and the dulcimers celebrate the victory and the glories of the victor whose name it is scarcely necessary to mention. AN EMERSONIAN POINT OF VIEW. LOOK at the horses That gallop and glide, That amble and canter, scurry and slide. y opinion Of all the gay show, With jockeys in color, Aflame and aglow : A hundred-to-one shot is, of course, Like rd round The world of the horse. ‘merson's, h comicbooks.com