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Judge, 1906-12-22 · page 31 of 48

Judge — December 22, 1906 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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Judge — December 22, 1906 — page 31: Judge, 1906-12-22

What you’re looking at

This page contains several satirical pieces lampooning American social customs and literary pretension circa early 1900s. **"Youthful Remorse"** depicts a child's guilty confession about raiding the pantry—a gentle humor about childhood disobedience and the contradiction between rules and temptation. **"The Spirit of Giving"** mocks insincere gift-exchanging between friends. Both women give cheap, perfunctory gifts (handkerchief-holder, sofa cushion) yet write elaborate, gushing thank-you notes praising each other's thoughtfulness. The satire captures the hypocrisy of obligatory social rituals where recipients privately judge each other's taste while publicly expressing gratitude. **"Bobby Not a Faddist"** jokes about the "vegetarian fad"—a dietary trend apparently trendy enough that even Uncle Jack's family has adopted it, disappointing young Bobby's Christmas dinner expectations. **"Ballade of a Literary Person"** ridicules a self-important would-be author who dismisses all canonical writers (Lamb, Byron, Moore, etc.) as overrated, yet confidently plans to write his own books—satirizing literary pretension and unwarranted self-confidence among aspiring writers.

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

YOUTHFUL REMORSE. ESTERDAY mamma goed down ~ To do some shopping an’ I foun’ ‘That she had went away before She thought to lock the pantry door. It’s awful hard tor me to stay Up in my room alone an’ play, When no one’s in the house ‘cept me, An’ ma’s went off and took the key. So I goed down the cellar stair, An’ stood in my old baby-chair So I could see just what to get ; An’ ‘en I got it—an’ let. I must ‘a’ et a awful lot. T ought to knowed, but I forgot ‘That ma ‘d come back soon as she could. An’ ‘en she'd say, “Has you been goud?" But jam, it tastes so awful nice; When I got down I went back twice. I wish I hadn’t went for more, For just then ma comed in the door ! THE SPIRIT OF GIVING. DOROTHY sent Helen a handkerchief-holder, while Helen remembered Dorothy with a sofa cushion. Dorothy wrote :— Dearest Helen—The sofa - cushion you sent me was perfectly lovely. Did you work it yourselt? It was awfully sweet of you to remember me and I'm sure that our friendship becomes bound by firmer ties because of your thoughtful gift. With an abundance of love from—Doxoriy. Helen wrote : Dearest Dorothy—Your beautiful gift reached me this morning, and it was just the sweetest remem- brance! It was the very thing I needed most, and whenever I use it I will be sure to think of you. I know you made it with your own sweet hands, and for that reason I will cherish it all the more. With best love from—HELEN Dorothy said, ‘* Didn't she show horrible taste ?" Helen said, @ 4 ®& % “ PRARINE LAMBERT. OMETIMES when you are going down a crowded street and everybody looks homely to you, it may be because you feel that way. BOBBY NOT A FADDIST. ‘Well, Bob, I suppose you are anticioating a fine Christmas dinner over at Uncle Jack's?” Naw! the whole bloomin’ family are vegetarians!” JUST ANOTHER ONE ON CHICAGO. First Vassar oint—" That Miss Smith from Chicago got a magnificent touring-car for a Christmas present.’ ‘Secon Vassar cin. —"* Hung up her stocking for It, | suppose.”* THE VERDICT. A JURY ina smail town had just brought in the verdict, Guilty of hog-stealing in the first degree.” The judge informed them that they had omitted to assess the value of the property stolen, that there was no degree to hog-stealing, and asked them to retire and bring in their verdict in proper form. When they entered a second time the foreman handed to the judge a piece of brown paper upon which was written : “We, the jeury, pusilanimously find the defendent guilty in the sum of 1 dollar and a 34 in favor of the hog.” BALLADE OF A LITERARY PERSON. DO not like the works of Lamb, Though he a plenty has of wit ; I think that Byron is a sham; Moore's lines have music, I admit, But still 1 do not relish it Ah, Fame, thou most elusive elf, ‘Though from my presence thou mayst flit, T'll write a Look or two myself, As for the Persian, El Kayyém, I'd like to roast him on the spit; Moligre with faintest praise I damn, Racine I'd bury in a pits All foreigners I long have quit. I like not Ghibelline or Guelph, There is not one of them that’s fit— Tl write a book or two myself. The covers of my Hume I slam, ‘At Gibbon's shrine I will not sit, Carlvle into the earth I'd ram, ‘And Froude is but a prosy chit. At moderns I but laugh ana twit; They're only out for sordid pelf. T'll show them that I'm full of grit— Tl write a book oF two myself. ENVOY. Few volumes ever make hit. Some ne’er are taken from the shelf. Well. just to ease my mind a bits Til write a book or two myself. NATHAN Mt LEVY. comicbooks.com