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47. The Poultry Vendor. “Buy chickens, Mister.”/ They hawk their merchandise./ Poor little Indian!/ If he does make a sale,/ The buyer even will demand/ That he pluck the chicken clean.
47. The Poultry Vendor. “Buy chickens, Mister.”/ They hawk their merchandise./ Poor little Indian!/ If he does make a sale,/ The buyer even will demand/ That he pluck the chicken clean.

47. The Poultry Vendor. “Buy chickens, Mister.”/ They hawk their merchandise./ Poor little Indian!/ If he does make a sale,/ The buyer even will demand/ That he pluck the chicken clean.

Alternate Titles
  • 100 Original Woodcuts by Posada
Artist (Mexican, 1852 - 1913)
Date1947
ClassificationsPrint
MediumColor woodcut
DimensionsImage area: 3 3/16 x 2 3/4 in. (8.1 x 7 cm) Sheet: 9 3/16 x 6 5/16 in. (23.3 x 16 cm)
Credit LineGift of Jack Lord
Object number1973.23.47
63. Chanticler. Don’t you wish you were a rooster/ Who has a lot of hens?/ With each her little chickens—/ And not one do you support?
63. Chanticler. Don’t you wish you were a rooster/ Who has a lot of hens?/ With each her little chickens—/ And not one do you support?
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
9. Little Calavera. Run, Skinny, run./ Water is always harmful,/ Even in a bath./ After one is fifty/ He should not even wash.
9. Little Calavera. Run, Skinny, run./ Water is always harmful,/ Even in a bath./ After one is fifty/ He should not even wash.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
100. The Pulque Maker. Pulque like no other/ Romero knew how to make;/ He threw in rubbish/ And soapy water as well/ For this—he is now a calavera./ May he rest in peace, amen.
100. The Pulque Maker. Pulque like no other/ Romero knew how to make;/ He threw in rubbish/ And soapy water as well/ For this—he is now a calavera./ May he rest in peace, amen.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
2. Politics. Said a leader earnestly:/ “As they paint it, I jump it,/ “And even if they didn’t, I would jump;/ “For he how lags, loses.”
2. Politics. Said a leader earnestly:/ “As they paint it, I jump it,/ “And even if they didn’t, I would jump;/ “For he how lags, loses.”
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
37. The Bohemian. He deceives, who says on seeing me,/ “Here was a prize-winning artist.”/ I was only a Bohemian,/ Without even claws to scratch myself.
37. The Bohemian. He deceives, who says on seeing me,/ “Here was a prize-winning artist.”/ I was only a Bohemian,/ Without even claws to scratch myself.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
48. Pariah. I am a Pariah, an outcast,/ But I live happily;/ For me, stew is breast of chicken,/ And a few bones, a joint of meat.
48. Pariah. I am a Pariah, an outcast,/ But I live happily;/ For me, stew is breast of chicken,/ And a few bones, a joint of meat.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
94. Calavera of the Policeman. So strict in vigilance,/ So rigorous in duty,/ That he passed scoundrels by./ They made his job a good one!/ This, then, is the bony one;/ He ran this way and that./ And today the only sound he hears is,/ “Rest in peace, amen.”
94. Calavera of the Policeman. So strict in vigilance,/ So rigorous in duty,/ That he passed scoundrels by./ They made his job a good one!/ This, then, is the bony one;/ He ran this way and that./ And today the only sound he hears is,/ “Rest in peace, amen.”
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
42. The Garbage Man. Give Way! Space and more space!/ On a bell-shaped truck he sits;/ The garbage is passing by—/ And he leaves me, a bell-shaped hollow.
42. The Garbage Man. Give Way! Space and more space!/ On a bell-shaped truck he sits;/ The garbage is passing by—/ And he leaves me, a bell-shaped hollow.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
75. The Editor’s Reward. Having given us his best,/ He gets only criticism;/ Better— he should hear/ The heavenly flutes of angels.
75. The Editor’s Reward. Having given us his best,/ He gets only criticism;/ Better— he should hear/ The heavenly flutes of angels.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
95. Sharp Trader. Speak not of “honesty”;/ All talk through their hats— / And so do you!/ Let the buyer beware.../ One must live,/ And, you are a cheat!
95. Sharp Trader. Speak not of “honesty”;/ All talk through their hats— / And so do you!/ Let the buyer beware.../ One must live,/ And, you are a cheat!
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
13. Lecher. It does no good to look at them/ With such intensity;/ It does no good to look at a pastry,/ Unless you are to be the pie.
13. Lecher. It does no good to look at them/ With such intensity;/ It does no good to look at a pastry,/ Unless you are to be the pie.
José Guadalupe Posada
1947
46. Reminiscence. Who, on seeing what the present brings,/ Does not lament time gone by?/ Who is it who does not mourn/ That which time has taken away?
46. Reminiscence. Who, on seeing what the present brings,/ Does not lament time gone by?/ Who is it who does not mourn/ That which time has taken away?
José Guadalupe Posada
1947