“Well! let’s see, and at your place, how’s it going with you, cutie?”
“Not too bad, not too bad; lots of colds; a bit of bronchitis, some smallpox… But, as papa was saying to me yesterday, for everything to go altogether, entirely well, we would need… a good little epidemic.”
(Le Journal amusant, Paris, 1872)
Mattie the goose-boy (mascot of the eponymous Hungarian satirical magazine): “Well, you can’t beat this Menyus housekeeper! He’s been around for years, letting all this dirt and garbage accumulate. Is it any wonder cholera has struck him?”
The man (“Menyus”) with the pitchfork tossing out the “dignity of parliament” is Prime Minister Baron Menyhért Lónyay, a frequent object of ridicule in this magazine due to the corruption that plagued his brief tenure. The pieces of paper refer to speculation, deficits, losses, railroad concession, subventions, bank politics, etc. I can’t say anything specific about the anti-semitic caricature in the lower left, though we may presume it is meant to represent stereotypical Jewish banking interests.
(Ludas Matyi, Budapest, 1872)
(Ludas Matyi, Budapest, 1872) (This would appear to be illustrating a triumph of alcoholic potions over clinical instructions.)
Little Gretel is sick with measles and her neighborhood friends are no longer visiting her because of this. When she is supposed to say her nighttime prayer, she hesitates at its beginning, where the dear little angels are summoned to her bedside. The mother admonishes her, since now that she is sick, she should pray correctly, but Gretel responds in poignant resignation: “Oh, Mama, the little angels won’t come to me, because I have the measles.”
(Fliegende Blätter, Munich, 1872)
Sic Transit Pestilentia 