Judge, 1904-11-19 · page 5 of 16
Judge — November 19, 1904 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This Judge comic strip satirizes "Nervy Nat," a fake palm reader who operates as a common con artist. The humor lies in his brazen admissions of his fraudulent scheme—he explicitly calls himself "a general of graft" while posing as "Professor Palolla." The satirical targets are twofold: First, the prevalence of fortune-telling scams preying on gullible New Yorkers of various classes (working girls, society women, police officers). Second, the broader corruption of the era—Nat's casual criminality and his attempt to recruit a cop into a "business" partnership mock systemic graft that permeated urban institutions. The comic's appeal derives from Nat's unapologetic candor about his con while his clients remain oblivious or complicit. The "New Game" title suggests this fraud was familiar enough to readers to recognize as contemporary social commentary rather than mere fantasy.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Nervy Nat—' Converse about your ‘captains of industry"! 1 may not be in that class—in fact, I'm hanged if my most acid detractor would accuse me of that—but I'm a general of graft, and that’s no ante-election speech. Ah! Sister Ann, I see my first client of the morning. approach- ing on Cuban heels. Palms read. Oh, splash!" ~ B, Roapway Stripes—"* What seest, necromancer?” Nervy Nat—' Well, sir, there are indications that you are going on a long Journey, but you are going to get back to town ail right; but your feet are going to be awful tired. You are coming into some money— thirty cents, | think—then you can get your hair cut. That's queer. ‘There are some little lines here that look like letters. By Jove! they spell, words—' b-r-o-w-n t-h-e w-h-e-a-t-s.’ And here below {s ‘h-a-m a-n-d’— The rest is blurred. One cold simolean, please."” Si Orricer O'Toote—''Shtop—shtop, Oi say! Yez musht be th’ divil himself, Nervy Nat! Oi've caught yez red-handed, Ol always sald there ‘wor somethin’ shpooky about yez * Nervy Nat—"' For the love of Mike, it's the O'Toole!"" NO. 49.—NERVY NAT Pansy Powoerrure—"'Tell me all about myself, Professor Palolla!"* Nenvr Nat—"‘1 see by your subway line that you're going to get a seat next Tuesday going up town; and this little bump at the base of the thumb is the mound of fruit which tells me you are a peach; and those little red, angry-looking crosses convince me that you are on the verge of a terrible catastrophe—marriage, | fear. Also, if I didn't need the money, I would prophesy that a handsome gentleman who is near you was going to kiss you right on the mouth. But, no; that's all. One dollar, please. 4 iOup Lapy—" Phwat do yez make av me fist, Mister Perfessor ?" Nervy Nat—‘* Remarkable hand, this. There's crowded traffic, for” ‘one thing: and if you were not a lady, madam, | should suggest your for- “une lay in getting onto the police force, as you have an itching palm. Then there seems to be a complete map of the Tenderloin in your Band, with crosses indicating the gargle emporiums ""—— 6, Nervy Nat—''I must say you show plagued little business sense, O'Toole, for a policeman. You and | could have bullt up an excellent Dusiness, And it's such a doosid nulsance to have to think up a new graft every time I get out of the Hotel de Hobo!" AT A NEW GAME, comicbooks.com