Judge, 1906-01-06 · page 3 of 14
Judge — January 6, 1906 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The poem satirizes an obsessive theater-goer ("gallery-god") who frequents the cheapest seats nightly, living vicariously through dramatic performances. The figure whimpers and screams along with stage action, experiencing life only through theatrical spectacle rather than genuine experience. The lower cartoons address separate topics: "Lack of Proof" features Mark Twain discussing an unhealthy town where nobody dies—a logical paradox used to mock unreliable witnesses. "His Position" and "No Doubt About It" appear to reference insurance schemes and military matters, though specific context is unclear without publication date. The bottom cartoon "Giving More to the Poor" depicts a beggar receiving judicial sentencing rather than charity—satirizing harsh treatment of the destitute.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE GALLERY GOD. RY-GOD am 1. ight I reign supreme Upon my awful throne on high. I whistle, howl and scream, I whistle, howl and scream, For a gallery-god am I. By day I travel through the streets Incognito —unrecognized. No one suspects my regal might, No herald my procession cries. But when the tragic night returns T mount up to my lofty throne, And once again a tyrant am, And once again the world T own. The Casars, Richelieus and Lears All quake before my deafening hiss, And many a histrionic queen Placates me with a wafted kiss. And what care I for millionaire Or tonsured monk with pious face? Guie word from me and they, too, fall And cringe before my royal mace. And I have sweethearts— yes, a score— For a gallery-god am L The fairest in this wide, wide land— Cleopatras, Juliets— All seek to win my imperial hand. The great Napoleon in his might My august favor often begs ; For even he would dare not face My artillery of senile eggs. Each night I reign supreme, And on my awful throne on high I whistle, howl and scream, I whistle, For a galler howl and scream, god am I. JAMES FRANCIS COOKE, HIS POSITION. TIME a new insurance company was planned. The organizers secured thousands of stockholders, and the scope LACK OF PROOF. Mak TWAIN, during one of his lecture-tours, was waiting ata station for a d ed train, The lecture committee and several townsmen were with him, and they were talking their best to pass the time away. One man told about a frightfully unhealthy town he had read about, and it was a grewsome tale of dying and burials and that sort. ‘It might have been worse,” Twain followed in his slow and direct manner. ‘I lived in that same town for two years and I never died once. Nota single time.” Either the way he said it, or some- thing, seemed to daze the crowd, and not a man said a word in re- of the company was to be great indeed. To them came the richest man in the country, who begged that he might be permitted to have a part in the concern. “Certainly,” said the organizers; + we have planned a place for You are to have the most conspicuous position in the affair." “Ah, thank you! Count me in. What have you in for me?" “You are to be the policy-holder.” you. sponse. Of course you may think I'm lying,” the humorist contin- ued, ‘and I'm sorry, for I can’t get any witnesses to testify that I didn’t, because everybody else that lived there is dead.” After which statement it began to dawn upon them. NO DOUBT ABOUT IT. SPEAKING of that old sailor-hat joke, there's probably many a man who uses military brushes who'd faint at the sight of a gun. GIVING MORE TO THE POOR. Pat—"'Th’ rich are gittin’ richer.”* *Yis: but they give more to th’ poor than iver befoor.”* Pat—"Thrue! A judge will give a poor man six months now where he used to only give him tin days.” comicbooks.com