Judge, 1907-08-17 · page 10 of 16
Judge — August 17, 1907 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three satirical pieces typical of early 20th-century American humor: **Top illustration**: A sketch of a man and woman in conversation, captioned with banal small talk about resort seasons—mocking the vapid pleasantries people use to maintain social interaction. **"The Fruiterer's Proposal"**: A poem by Walther Pulitzer about a fruit vendor's clumsy romantic advances using fruit metaphors ("strawberry blonde," "peach," "cherry," "apple of my eye"). The woman rejects him, punning that while his fruits are good, he himself is worthless—satirizing both presumptuous suitors and overwrought romantic language. **"As She Is Wrote"**: Mock-German English instructions for a salt cellar, riddled with grammatical errors ("is emploid," "functonning"). This satirizes German mechanical products marketed to Americans, poking fun at both foreign manufacturing and broken English instruction manuals. **"Why He Hesitates"**: A cartoon showing an editor critiquing a young artist's portfolio, punning on artistic "defects"—gentle workplace humor about artistic insecurity. The page's overall theme: modern social awkwardness and communication failures.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WHAT FOOLISH*THINGS WE SAY TO KEEP THE CONVERSATION GOING. “« Have you been coming here every season?” Oh, no: not every season. This has been a resort, you know, ever since 1850." Where did you go that year?” THE FRUITERER’S PROPOSAL. ESPECIALLY THE WHISKERS. N. MONDAY the chap started on his vacation ; EVEN after a man reforms and cuts off his side-whiskers, it isn’t On Tuesday he'd started a summer flirtation ; always easy to forgive him. On Wednesday he told her in tones rather fond, Miss Jinks, I shall call you my strawberry blonde.” On Thursday, grown bolder, he laughed, ‘ You're a peach !" (She answered, ‘* The kind, sir, that's just out of reach.”’) On Friday, not daunted, but still quite as merry, He begged, ‘May I kiss you? You've lips like a cherry.” Then Saturday came, and instead of good-bye He cried, ‘Let's elope, dear apple of my eye?” But thus she responded, “I'll ne'er wed a prig, Nor any young man that's not worth a fig. Your fruits may be good, but you're nof,"" quoth the maid. « And I've no use for lemons save in lemon-ade.” WALTHER PULITZER, AS SHE IS WROTE. THIS is a sample of «English as she is wrote” by a German firm which wishes to tell Americans how to use a new mechanical salt cellar: «It is necessary, that is emploid only a salt-table very fine milled and very dried. Another salt is to pound and to dry previously than in this case it is forming masses (crumbs). It is necessary that the salt cellar is not placed humid and is not touched with hands wets. By a good and rational use the cellar is functonning blameless and is of a unlimited durability. The cellar is the best.” . MEN and women might save an awful lot of worry by liking what PWG HE HESTIATES. yah sae they have rather than wasting so much unavailing effort in trying quoy M@ MEM AETIT IE you like that drawing, Mr. Editor, | have a lot to have what they like. ‘Tue eprtor (obsent-mindedly)—** T..at's the main defect in this drawing.” comicbooks.com