Judge, 1905-01-28 · page 5 of 16
Judge — January 28, 1905 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a slapstick comedy strip about **Nervy Nat**, a scheming character who fakes suicide by drinking root beer to con sympathetic suburbanites into caring for him as a pampered invalid. The satire targets **wealthy suburbanites' pretentiousness**: they're portrayed as foolishly eager to demonstrate first-aid knowledge and play nurse to someone they believe poisoned, despite obvious signs of fakery. Nat exploits their desire to appear cultured and helpful. The joke hinges on class humor—Nat views the suburban household as an easy mark for free bed, meals, and luxurious treatment. He's cynical about their "rescue" efforts, treating the whole situation as entertainment at their expense. The references to specific beers (Wurzburger) and social customs suggest this mocks actual turn-of-century suburban affectation and the gap between working-class schemes and middle-class naïveté.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Mes, Huon Mayne—" Heavens! that poor wretch is committing suicide! Stop him, Hugh—stop him!" Nervy Nat—"" What in Sam Hill did | choose root-beer for? | might just as well died drinking Wurzburger. If I don't geta good bed and a hot dinner to-night after taking this~ say, I'll bet it kills me, any way. I'll have to play dead now, That kind-hearted woman is coming to the rescue.” pecan, i 3. Hucu Marne—" Merciful powers! —poison! The man's taken enough Nervy Nat-—"" ! ‘Kling me. These suburbanites must e belong to a first-aid ed class. Well, this little stunt seems to . Hugh! we must take him in the house, quick, be working out beautifully. I can see myself for at least one evening in the lap of luxury the pampered invalid a bit of flotsam from the tide of “Holy Ike! if I was really po I'd have croaked life rescued In this, his hour of need. Oh, splash!" eight times in the time these people take to get wise to the facts. And I'm petting an awful crick in the neck.” 5. te. Hucn Mayne— We haven't any—er—stomach Perhaps this bicycle-pump will do as" Doesn't the poor fool know that bicycling is no longer ir Nexvy Nat—" Back, back! Nix on the bike-pump! | confess: | bon-ton? The way to rescue poisoned people is to sit th was teasing, teasing, only teasing you. “Twas no poi ook, bu chair before the fire, insist on feeding them cold chicken a harmless root-beer. In fact, ‘tis buta bit of pleasantry, | assure you and force untold mugs of hot toddy on them, NO. §9.-NERVY NAT COMES TO. comicbooks.com