Judge, 1911-09-09 · page 7 of 24
Judge — September 9, 1911 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several humorous pieces satirizing early 20th-century American life: **"Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree"** parodies Longfellow's famous poem, substituting an automobile breakdown for pastoral nostalgia. The joke: a man spends hours troubleshooting his car only to discover he's simply run out of gas—mocking both mechanical incompetence and correspondence-school education. **"Apartmental Memories"** nostalgically catalogs apartment-living frustrations: unheated units, unreliable message service, intrusive landlords—presenting urban rental life as comically miserable. **The Joseph Smith reference** jokes about name ambiguity, distinguishing the Boston *Pilot* editor from the Mormon Church founder (both named Joseph Smith). **"That Newly Noble Three Hundred"** satirizes wealthy American heiresses marrying titled European men. The "newly noble" references England supposedly creating hundreds of new peerages, suggesting England is mass-producing baronetcies for rich American brides—mocking both transatlantic social climbing and British willingness to commercialize aristocracy.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
AS HE FELT WHEN SHE TOLD HIM Under the Spreading Chestnut ree. By EDWARD A RYAN NDER the spreading chestnut tree a stubborn auto stands, And Smith, an angry man is he, with troubleonhis hands. He cusses softly to himself and crawls beneath the car, And wonders why it didn’t bust before he got so far. The carbureter seems to be the cause of all his woe; He tightens half a dozen bolts, but still it doesn’t go. And then he tries the steering gear, but finds no trouble there— Till, wet with perspiration, then, he quits in sheer despair. He squats beside the road ‘to give his brain a chance to cool, And ponders on his training at the cor- respondence school ; And then he starts the job once more, until by chance ’tis seen The cause of all his trouble is—he's out of gasoline. Thought She Tripped Over It. Mrs. Benham—‘‘Here is an account of a woman being killed by a train.”” Mr. Benham—‘‘Well, she shouldn't wear one."” T IS not so absurd after all to say that the works of Homer were not written by Homer but by another man of the same name. There is Joseph Smith, for instance. He is the editor of the Boston Pilot, but he isn’t the president of the Mormon Church—not by a jugful! “WHY DON'T THE BLAMED THING GO UP?” “NO.” Apartmental Memories. By WILLIAM WALLACE WHITELOCK. REMEMBER, I remember Our last apartment, dear— The little window where no sun Peeped in from year to year; The janitor who gave us heat Alone in May and June; The agent who came round for rent— He always came too soon. I remember, I remember Those hallboys still to-day; They never got a message right, They threw our mail away; And if a friend dropped in to call, They bawled, ‘They don’t live here!’’ Ah, yes! I still remember well Our last apartment—dear. ‘Twas Ever Thus. “<@DA, WHAT does it mean when you say that prices fluctuate?’’ “It means, my son, that they go up and down, When it’s something you’ve got to buy, the price goes up; and when it’s something you’ve got to sell, the price goes down."’ That Newly Noble Three Hundred. USH, little heiress; don’t you fret! You'll get a baron, maybe, yet, Though disappointed e’er before, For England’s making hundreds more. comicbooks.com