Judge, 1908-10-24 · page 7 of 24
Judge — October 24, 1908 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Judge* contains three separate satirical pieces: 1. **"What's the Trouble?"** — A dialect-heavy humorous story about a domestic disaster: a mother leaves children to make molasses candy, which boils over catastrophically, coating everything and everyone. The humor relies on exaggerated chaos and the child narrator's deadpan acceptance of impending doom. 2. **"A Well-Trained Wife"** — A brief comic sketch mocking domestic submission. A husband enters with chestnuts; the wife, apparently exhausted, barely acknowledges him while "listening." 3. **"A Real Preacher"** — A satirical sermon by a Black preacher at a widow's funeral. The satire targets the preacher's hypocrisy: he lectures the widower about neglecting the deceased wife while implying the widower spent money on another woman ("yaller shoes," "red neckties") rather than contributing to the church. These pieces employ period-typical racial dialect and stereotypes throughout, reflecting *Judge*'s satirical approach to working-class and African American subjects.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“My! but I'm glad these mushroom shapes are in style? init. And that’s how the trouble 'gin— ‘ sses and she done her way, and it ain't much soder a: long before that "lasses candy biling: all out of the pot, all over the stove on down to the floor and we can't stop it, and all us chilluns and the cat and the dog that’s run- ning atween us stuck tight in it and we couldn’t eat it and when the lillest one, Bennie, gits washed, he puts mustard on his hair, He finks it goose gre and his dog Jack licked his head and he’s under the bed now a-howling like they’s somebody dying and sicker'n anything, and nen they make some more ‘lasses candy this time with white sugar in it, and while it was "ginning to bile 1 et some of what I fought was the sugar and it was ma's face powder and the t sez I'm going to die and bust and I'm ‘specting to bust any time now and the cat got her head in ma’s cream pitcher and [ had to cut the cat's head off to keep from break- x the pitcher and nen I to. break the pitcher to get the at's hi and now I'm going to die and bust and the twins and the li'l ones will get all the ni d_ peanuts and when ma comes hom nd finds me dead and the pitcher broke she'll lick me."* noe: Hwee a, WALTER A WELL-TRAINED WIFE. Husband (enter- ing house with bag of chestnuts) — ‘1 WHAT'S THE TROUBLE? 667PPROUBLE ‘nuff. Ma tuck the baby down town to see the things and promised us lil ones and the twins nannoes and peanuts if we'd be good and didn’t burn the house down till she gets back, and told "Liza and Lizzie who be the twins that they dast make some ‘lasses candy, the white kind with Lizzie sez a litt soder, A REAL PREACHER. 66 C\UAH beloved sistuh,"” began the preacher, “he ben called beyan’ de reach ob congratulationments oah I would seize de present suspicious occasion to han’ huh a few. Heah, you fresh widowah! doan’ you frown towa'ds dis pulpit, doan “ot do hit, suh! I's heah, by de grace ob God, to tell you-all de truf. “As a wife ouah sistuh was habitously neglected. You-all knows dat. As a mothah she wuked ovahtime. As a househol" dredge she nevah got nothin’ but pretty rocky boahd, an’ a mighty seldom chanct to buy a caliker dress outen de buttuh money. I would ask de widowah, Did you-all evah do mo’ dan take home de wash? You did. Dat's a fack, an’ I axes pahdon. You also col- lected de coin foh de same. Dat coin appeahed in dis neighbohhood in de fohm ob red neckties an’ yaller shoes. I ain't nevah see none ob it inde contribution box. Not me, an’ I's ben gospelin’ round heah foh quite a spell. ** Frien’s, let us not weep foh ouah sistuh, Let us rathuh save ouah foh No. 2, a lady who I s'pose you-al is "quainted wid, an’ who sits dis minnit wid huh lewscivious eye tuhned upon de afflictioned, bof ob dem saddle-colahed coons makin’ a bluff at grief an’ woe, Let us pray dat wen he lays his han’ an’ feahtune at huh feet, she yet_ may hab de virtuous impulsation to step on dem, foh sets a hundred and thirty-eight dollars. ” de viles’ sinnuh may retuhn, glory be, an’ serve him right! ** Twill close my disco’se wid de re- mahk dat his haih hus de kinks slick ened outen it alittle too smoove to com- poht wid a heaht bowed down, an’ ef he don’ lak my style istration to de facksobdiscer’mony, I's raidy to shuck de raiment ob mah high callin’, an’ argify de mattuh wid him jest soon’s ouah sistuh has ben laid to brought home some more chestnuts, dear.” Wife (wearily, without glancing up) "I'm listening."” Artist de Monk- of your fami Mr. Elly—' Artist de Monk wanted to see my working card.”* de fust res’ she evah A LARGE CONTRACT. knew. Dat's de kin’ Why, what's the trouble?” This is positively the first and last life-size portrait 111 ever paint of a member Phe business agent of the House Painters’ Union called on me yesterday and ob preachah you-all got into youah midst."" MENRY JAMES comicbooks.com