ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Judge, 1906-06-16 · page 10 of 16

Judge — June 16, 1906 — page 10: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Judge — June 16, 1906 — page 10: Judge, 1906-06-16

What you’re looking at

This advice column satirizes the American middle-class practice of cadging free vacations from relatives and acquaintances. A city dweller writes asking how to manipulate distant relatives—an uncle with a farm, a cousin, and wealthy friends with a lake cottage—into inviting his family for a free month-long stay without explicit invitation. The "Judge's" response is darkly comic: cultivate these people through calculated gestures (theater tickets, dinners, letters) over months to manufacture obligation. The accompanying cartoon titled "The Wicked Esquimau" (showing unidentified figures) reinforces the predatory theme. The satire mocks both the writer's shameless entitlement and the broader social hypocrisy of the era—how people maintained relationships strategically rather than genuinely, and how vacation-starved urbanites exploited family ties. The opening epigraph about saving eleven months to afford one month's vacation adds bitter context.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Many folks save up eleven months in or- der to take one month's vacation; then skimp eleven months more to pay for it. Dear Sir—It is with some delicacy that I approach you on a question that is giving me and my family many anxious hours. To be entirely frank, realiz~ ing that only by a frank statement of the facts can you properly judge of the matter, we are figuring on our annual outing among our country relatives, and we have used up the principal ones, so that now but two or three, and they the most distantly related, remain. In short, I have an uncle who lives on a very nice farm, where we would love to go with the children for a month ; but we have never been on visiting terms with him, and stand no show at all of getting an invitation unsolicited. My wife has a cousin similarly situated and simi- larly inaccessible. Then there is a well-to-do gentleman and his wife whom we know slightly, but have never been intimate with, who go every year to a fine cottage on a lake. They have plenty of room, a small family, and would no doubt invite us if we had some good way of bringing the matter to their atten- tion. Would you kindly suggest how we could work the thing up and land one of these parties for a free invite? We have used up about forty quires of paper, and have finally given up in despair. Very truly yours, Crry Dwar. You have waited entirely too long. Last winter was the time to begin a campaign of this kind. You should have invited your uncle, or your cousin, or your friend, to spend a day with you in the city. By blowing them toa play, a supper afterward, and diligently culti- vating them later by correspondence, you could have had your vaca- tion outing cinched now, and for a ten-dollar bill last winter acquired $210 worth of rural atmosphere, fresh milk, and similar joys this sum- mer. As it is, we do not see much hope for you. But there is noth- ing like trying, and we sOggest that the following letters be rushed off by next mail TO YOUR UNCLE. My Dear Uncle—Jane and I have just been talking about you, and I thought you might like to know that we remember you, even though we have never written to you. We are such dreadful letter- writers, anyw I have not written to my own brother for a year, and I tell Jane a shame the way she neglects her folks. Iam writing to you now because Jane and I were just saying that it's awful the way relatives drift apart and forget all about each other, As we grow older we think more of these things. Blood, after all, is thicker than water, and there are times when we all feel that the scattered remnants of a family ought to get together and renew old associa- tions. And that brings me to what I had in mind, Jane and I have been mapping out the whole thing. Why couldn't we have a little reunion at my house early in the fall, after your summer work on the farm is done? It would do you good to run down to the city and see the sights for a few days. We haven't set any date, and maybe the whole plan will fall through; but we are beginning rather early, so as to have plenty of time. Now, it will not be a bit of trouble to us, and we will be only too glad to put up with what little ex- pense there would be for the sake of having you with us, Think it over and let us know soon. You needn't say yes or no yet, but do write at once and say that you will think it over, anyway. Ever Your Nephew, JAMES. P. S.—Jane sends love, as we all do. You ought to see my boy and girl. Fine little people. Run down a bit from the long year’s school-work. I've been thinking of taking them up country for a few days. Country seems to agree with them so well, but our summer plans are a bit uncertain yet. Iam so all-fired busy I don't know whether I can get away or not. If I do say it, I've got two of the nicest children that ever breathed the breath of life. Not a bit of trouble, and the way they take hold and help round the house would do your heart good to see. Promise you will come and we will be happy. JAMES. THE WICKED ESQUIMAU. Oh, once an Esquimau lad there was; ‘On a candle long and thick he fed. His brother asked him for the wick. “ There ain't goin‘ to be no wick," he said. Now is the time of run- ning brooks and shady nooks, "ham- mocks and books, wher- e’er one looks; also the sum- mer girl in edition de looks. TO YOUR COUSIN. My Dear Cousin—I suppose you will be surprised to get a letter from me, but I have been thinking for a long time that I would write to you, and now I've got at it. It's a shame the way people get so absorbed in their own affairs nowadays and forget all the rest of the family, even those nearest to them. We are really quite conscience- smitten when we think how we have let you and so many of our other relatives drift away from us. Jim and I have had a long talk about it and have resolved to make amends ; so [ am not waiting for anybody to take the lead, but have set out todo my duty. Now, I know how lonely you must be at times on the farm, and without any ceremony I herewith invite you to make us a visit and give us a chance to renew old ties. We are going away for the summer to the country (haven't decided just where we shall go yet), so cannot ask you to come right away; but Iam giving you due notice, so that when we get the sum- mer vacation out of the way you may be ready to come and see us. We are really very anxious to see you, and should like nothing better than to have you with us for a good long visit. We are thinking of coming in your direction for our vacation, and if we finally decide to locate anywhere in your section we shall drive over some day and sur- prise you. Now, let me hear from you right away, and do say that you will accept our invitation and be ready to come when we get back. Your Loving Cousin, JANE. P. S.—Do you happen to know of any good summer cottages in your vicinity? We never had so much trouble before in deciding where to go. For one thing, Jim may not have but a day or two off, so we have hesitated to take a cottage for the season. Will let you know if we should locate anywhere up your way. JANE. TO YOUR FRIENDS, THE MAN AND WIFE. My Dear Sir—You will no doubt be surprised to hear from me, but I met Mr. H—— the other day, and he told me how beautifully you were situated for the summer, and it occurred to me that you might know of something in the vicinity that ! could get for the sea- son, Iam all beat out on my summer plans. ad a place engaged and got word two weeks ago that it had burnea up. Everything else rented, and I was out. You know my family is small, and we do not take much room. Then my wife is such a capital manager, and the children (we think !) are about the best kid propositions ever built. You would hardly know they are about the house, and yet they are bully in health—never an ache or a pain. Lalmost forget everything else when I get to talking about those kids. I tell mylwife'that it is a mys- tery to me hdw such little folks ever came down ‘the pike, considering what kind of father they've got. Go- ing back to|theshouse question, I hope you know of something in your locality. We have always wanted to get a taste of summer life up there, but somehow) hever got: pointed in that directior If ere's nothing doing in the & line, we might run up for a few days, anyway. From what Mr, H——= told me about your place, I almost f€el jealous. Must be fine to have own lay- out. It would bea” re to get near enough just to have)a peep at your outfit. Very truly yours, etc. If nothing comes of these, you will have to stay at home. Take our advice and begin your eampaign for the summer of ‘97 at once. distal porte army in sot finest their mont trans fore and t the n whet! to ju to hi thing ters 5 sioner “L the p draug ple w and te oT teriou and s that ata ti to wri this y¢ Her aneer appeal A few throwi people cause draugt into th coug! ohh to writ The ba in on I ing dr