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Judge, 1911-01-28 · page 12 of 24

Judge — January 28, 1911 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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Judge — January 28, 1911 — page 12: Judge, 1911-01-28

What you’re looking at

This story by John Kendrick Bangs satirizes the women's suffrage debate. A prominent male speaker—described as a fearless champion who has intimidated hostile male audiences—addresses a massive gathering of the National Federation of Women. When he begins by confessing "I am afraid," the female audience erupts in triumph, interpreting his admission as proof that even great men fear women's power. The satire works on multiple levels: it mocks both anti-suffrage men (who feared women's political participation) and suggests that women's collective presence itself intimidates traditionally confident male leaders. The cartoon's title, "The First Rib-Roast," references the biblical Genesis account where woman was created from man's rib—implying women are now "roasting" or mocking their male counterpart. The secondary cartoons about marital jealousy and merchant disputes provide lighter comic relief on gender dynamics.

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

What He Was Afraid Of. By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS. HE AUDIENCE was a great one. From the cellar to the roof of the great auditorium, not a seat of any kind was unoccupied. Those who had prophesied that the mass meeting of the National Federation of Women would prove a fi- asco and a failure, because at the last moment the ladies would not attend, were proven to be false prophets and un- worthy of honor in their own country or out of it. Even had nothing else been achieved by the gathering together of THE FIRST RIB-ROAST. these clans from all parts of the country, the mere existence of such an audience as this was a justification for the call, and enthusiasm reigned on all sides. And when it was realized that upon this especial occasion they had assembled to hear the arguments of one who had fought their claims to the ballot for years, even the adverse critic was dum- founded and was forced to admit that they had basely spoken who had averred that they would not tolerate or even lis- ten to the other side. The speaker came out upon the plat- form and swept the mighty audience with his eye, and then, leaning against the lectern, after regarding them in- tently for a moment, he spoke. His first words thrilled them to the very core of their being. “*Ladies,”’ said he, then hesitated. “‘Ladies,"’ he re- peated slowly, ‘I am afraid’’—— A great cry of sat- isfaction rose like a tidal wave of irresist- ible force from gal- leries, boxes, and or- chestra chairs, At last! Here was a confession from a mere man—he was afraid! And such a man, too! Known to the world as a leader, and a great one! His achieve- ment in the world of affairs was known to all and denied by none, not even by his enemies, who held him in wholesome respect because of his undeniable force. He was a man who had been called not only a peerless but a fearless champion of the things for which he had stood as firmly as the Rock of Gibraltar stands upon its massy base. In the past, un- afraid, he had risen in his might of elo- quence before countless multitudes of hostile critics, and had dared give full Customer and emphatic expression to the convic- tions of his very soul. He had even been called truculent as he stood before audiences of men—men who could have taken him between their thumbs and UNBEATABLE. “* Will these socks wear well ?"" Merchant —'' 1 bat a pair on vich I haf worn for sigs months, already yet. Can you beat it?’ forefingers and broken him as a Titan snaps an oak or a child the stem of a pipe of clay. But now, in this presence, made up almost wholly of gentlewomen, he had confessed at last to fear. Five thousand women had heard him do so. Whether it were merely stage fright, moral fear, or some unaccountable phys- ica) shrinking from the task before him was not yet clear, for he had not given them an inkling of the character of the tremor to which he had confessed; but, none the less, the fact remained that he was afraid, for he had said so himself— he, a man who chose his words delib- erately and was everywhere known as “Go on, go on!"’ cried shrill, feminine voices from all parts of the hall. He gathered himself together and be- gan again, A WORD IN TIME SAVES— Doctor—' Really, madam, you look fine."* Patient—"" Not so loud, doctor, my husband is very jealous."’ comicbooks.com