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Judge, 1911-10-07 · page 10 of 24

Judge — October 7, 1911 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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Judge — October 7, 1911 — page 10: Judge, 1911-10-07

What you’re looking at

This Judge magazine page contains several satirical pieces mocking emerging social changes of the early 20th century, particularly women's expanding roles. **"Doubts"** by William Wallace Whitelock ridicules feminism through wordplay, questioning whether women can truly succeed in traditionally male professions. The humor derives from invented feminine job titles ("doctoresses," "preacherites," "bishopeens") and rhetorical questions implying women are unfit—notably, asking if a female financier will have "money in her jeans" (implying women lack financial credibility). **"His Own Medicine"** presents a darkly comic morality tale: a deceased druggist seeking heaven is denied entry but offered "something just as good"—hell itself, perhaps, suggesting pharmacists deserve damnation. The remaining brief pieces ("Joy-riding," "Economical Arrangement," the "Cupid's Almanac" section) are gentle observational humor about taxis, domestic servants, and seasonal romance. The overall page reflects Judge's conservative satirical stance opposing women's liberation, using humor to delegitimize feminist aspirations while maintaining plausible deniability through comedy.

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

Doubts. By WILLIAM WALLACE WHITELOCK. HEN doctors all are wom- en folk, We'll call them ‘‘doc- toresses."’ When ministers — this is no joke— Are persons wearing dresses, As “‘preacherites’” they will be sights, Likewise as ‘‘bishopeens."” But will the woman financier Have money in her jeans? Since many think that home’s the sphere Where woman has no equal, That she should rule the ‘‘house”’ is Llear, And ‘‘chairwin’’ is the sequel. As “‘surgeonite’’ she might be right For cutting things internal, But will the woman lawyer learn That ‘‘brief’’ is wit supernal? His Own Medicine. HE druggist had died and his spirit appeared before the golden gate. “*What do you want here?’’ asked St. Peter. “I'd like to come in,’’ answered the spirit. “I'm sorry that we can‘t let you into heaven, but we have something just as good that I can cheerfully recommend.” Joy-nding. TAXI is a benzine "bus, Their rates are very steep, And many are the boys that cuss Because they fell asleep. Economical Arrangement. Mrs. Knicker—‘‘And did you see the cow milked?’ Tommy —'‘Yes; it’s got spring faucets that you can’t leave running.’ CUPID'S ALMANAC. By OLIVER HERFORD AND JOHN CECIL CLAY. Cupid's Forecast for October. GricHT return of warmer conditions, but varying and unreliable. End of the month chilly. The first frost. The leaves of the time table begin to turn rapidly. This may be taken as a sign of a change, and is followed by a return to a dense high-pressure atmos- phere. THE SCORPION. "Tis said the Scorpion, when hemm’d in by Fire, Mocking the flames, will do herself to death So Summer dying smiles upon ber pyre Of maples, fanned to flame by Au- tumn's breath. What He Was. «¢]F YOU were fair,” his wife said, “you would acknowledge that I have done much to make you what you Oh, I acknowledge,’’ he replied, “that you deserve nearly all the credit for making me what Iam. By the way, do you happen to realize that what I am is head over heels in debt?”’ A Friend Indeed. FRIEND in need is a friend indeed, And this I’ve found most true; But mine is such a needy friend, He sticks to me like glue. WOMAN never looks on the dark side—of a looking glass. “ OUTRAGEOUs ! HorRoRs !” Life. By ELLIS 0. JONES. LIFE is without a peer in its obsti- nacy and perversity. It is the one abstract something or other that refuses absolutely to yield to argument, science, or religion. It is the easiest thing in the world to show in words that life is a useless thing, that it gets nowhere, that it is a delusion and a snare, that we are all running about aimlessly. But when we have entirely finished talking and tacked an_ indisputable Q. E. D, at the end of our highly sage and philosophical remarks, life goes right on as if nothing whatever had been said. Thousands of men every day reach the thoroughly logical conclusion that merely to struggle and strive, slave and sweat, suffer and sorrow, for the purpose of getting three meals a day, a place to sleep, and something besides which is more or less _in- tangible and ephemeral, is not worth while—that the game is not worth the candle. But such conclusions are as valueless as to deny the existence of matter. Life doesn't care what you say about it. It goes right on, regardless of the conclusion of either savant, scientist, or saint. Operatic Ora. SHE will not sing the old songs, She cannot sing the new; To shriek and scare the neighbors Is the best that she can do! E WHO never laughs at the jokes of another always ex- pects every one to laugh at his. comicbooks.com