Judge, 1906-05-12 · page 16 of 16
Judge — May 12, 1906 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This Judge comic strip satirizes a character called "Nervy Nat" who claims to have invented a fog-dispersal device. The humor pivots on London's notorious fog ("pea-souper"), a genuine public hazard in early 20th-century Britain. Nervy Nat pitches his invention to a government secretary (R.F.D.S.), claiming it will solve London's fog problem. His cylinder contains "compressed yeast" and "Jack London's manuscripts"—the latter a joke at the American author's expense, perhaps mocking his pretentiousness or relevance. The satire targets pseudo-inventors and their grandiose schemes. Nervy Nat repeatedly abandons his secretary ally whenever convenient, promising rewards he won't deliver. By the strip's end, both men are stranded in the fog anyway, with Nat asking to borrow scissors—the invention having failed utterly. The joke: fraudulent con-artists confidently peddle useless solutions to real problems, then disappear when reality proves them wrong.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
1, Nerv Nat—"'I have felt all along that these yaps were half-hearted in regard to the abatement of these mock-bisque fogs. | shall force the issue with my Invention here. One of my fog-tablets will make an ordi- nary * London particular’ craw! off limping "—— ay ie 3. Secretary R. F.D.S.—"' Are y-y-you pup-positive we are in no dud- danger?” Nervy Nat—"" My dear old ichthyosaurus, I'm sure of nothing but my weekly arrest. Now, if this puts the fog on the blink I have your word you'll stick by me and see that | get recompensed. I think In about nine seconds there will be a hole in this fog no tallor can patch, and "—— Change here for Chancery Lane! Glory be to bituminous coal! my Invention 1s a roaring success. Now, I don't need that old crawfish on my coat-talls any more than a pelican needs rubber boots. Hope somebody knows how we are going to get down, for | do not.” Sr rm sss a Ee, 2. Secretary Rovat F. D. S.—*t Er—aw—ah—what—er—can I do for you, sir?” - Nexvy Nat—"'I want you to test this fog-eater of mine—it is my own invention. This cylinder is loaded with compressed yeast and some other high explosives, including some of Jack London's manuscripts. Put on your lid and co! nN cut—we will try it. . There's a fog coming up Can- non Street now A eS 4. Secretary R. F. D. S.%"|—ah—believe I'll go back Nervy Nat-="'Oh, no! Come on.” You're all right while the integ- rity of my coat-tails fs assured. You may utter a couple of dozen paans of gratitude to my tailor for his excellent cloth—— If they don’t fill up this pathway we may be able to get back the same way "—— “Come down, now, both of you! Don’t be absurd, Slimm. You can readily see that | am above the law; but, even so, nothing in the gift of the British empire would induce me to live here. Do you happen to have a pair of scissors? I wish you'd clip the party of the second part off.”” Coprmisnt 1906 ay JUDGE COMPANY PUBLISNERS, OUR TH AVE weW YOR) NERVY NAT TAKES A FALL OUT QA LONDON FOG.