Judge, 1910-04-02 · page 7 of 16
Judge — April 2, 1910 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from Judge magazine contains small-town humor and social satire typical of early 20th-century American magazines. **Main Content:** The "Notes from the Basswood Bugle" section offers folksy small-town gossip—anecdotes about local characters like Deacon Purdy (critiquing the attorney general's uniform initiatives), Banker Amos Perkins, and Undertaker Sim Haskins. The humor relies on rural stereotypes and local color: complaints about high living costs, a mail bag damaging a store, and pranks by "the cross-eyed dentist." **Cartoons:** - "Not Needed" depicts a couple in a cold room with a fire escape—the joke being the fire escape won't help with freezing temperatures. - A Sir Walter Raleigh anecdote jokes about him inventing smoking after his girlfriend walked on his cloak. - "A Clock for All Fools' Day" shows a circular clock face. - "Winter Flowers" is a poem lamenting expensive bouquets for opera season. The satire targets petty small-town life, vanity, and consumer expenses—typical Judge fare offering middle-class readers gentle mockery of rural and urban foibles.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE NOTES FROM THE BASSWUOD BUGLE By ROY kK. MOULTON yj PYEACON PURDY says he can’t see why the attorney-general is makin’ such a fuss tryin’ to get uniform | as the y only fellers in this country that need uniforms is policemen and street-car conductors. It ain't every playwright who knows how to write a play right. Must be Banker Amos Perkins’s business is pickin’ up, He was observed on Main Street the other day with egg on his chin. Undertaker Sim Haskins says the people of this vicinity don’t seem to sit up and take an interest in life until after they get to be a hundred years old. Sim has only had one funeral in three years, and then he couldn’t do a very nifty job. The late deceased was hit by a train, and Sim was only able to pick up about half of him, the undertaker in the next town gettin’ the other half. A mail bag off from No. 17 knocked the chimney off’n Ame Hilliker’s general store one evenin’ last week and the flyin’ brick broke four plate- glass winders across the stree The railroad company has been informed that trains throwin’ off mail bags will have to hesitate some in the future. On account of the high cost of livin’, Bud Pringle, of this village, is thinkin’ of gettin’ a job as livin’ skellington with a circus the comin’ NOT NEEDED. “| see our room has a fire-escape."" She P “Hum ! It doesn't feel much like we 'd need it.” He (shiveringly summer. Bud is so thin you kin play a tune on his ribs with a couple of mallets, just like a xylophone. We see they have finally broke all the flyin’ machine records, If they would only break al! the talkin’ machine records, there would be some sense to it. Mrs. Bushrod Binks, the leader of the smart set of polite society here, has got a new watered silk dress, and the wimmen all say they should think she would be afraid of catchin’ her death of cold by goin’ around this kind of weather with a damp thing like that on her. Rod Skibbs got a photograph taken of his bank roll the other day. Tle says he wants to have it enlarged. There is some talk of buyin’ an electric lightin’ plant for this town, but Ren Bush, who runs our village greenhouse and is quite an expert florist, says somebody is tryin’ to sting the town, as there in’t no such plant as that, so far as he has ever heard. Some miscreant has been around nights scrapin’ off the gold-leaf signs from the store winders, We are not namin’ any names, but the party who did it is the cross-eyed dentist who has hie office up over the harness shop, and he is usin’ the gold for to fill teeth with. He should be pet cuted to the full extent of the law. Exemies more readily publish our bad than friends advertise our good. A CLOCK FOR ALL FOOLS’ DAY. SIR WALTER'S REGRET. IR WALTER RALEIGH was just coming away from the cleaner’s, where he had left his muddy cloak. “And to think,’” he muttered, ‘that no sooner had she walked on it, than I noticed she had her arc ties on!" Whereupon he invented smoking, as a solace, WINTER FLOWERS. By L. S. WATERHOUSE. ULL many a lyric has been sung About the flowers of spring, And many a poet's chime has rung With merry ting-a-ling Anent the summer's gorgeous bloom And autumn’s hardier flowers; Rat I will toll with proper gloom The bud of winter hours! I buy a blossom for her hair— It’s fifty cents or more; A little nosegay somewhat rare Three plunks or maybe four; And when an opera rolls around, With need of big bouquet, It makes my greenbacks softly sound The note of my dismay! IN 1919. RETURNING FROM A TRIP ABROAD. comicbooks.com