Judge, 1911-11-04 · page 15 of 24
Judge — November 4, 1911 — page 15: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a humorous short story by Ellis Parker Butler with an accompanying illustration. The joke relies on a deliberate misunderstanding: Two department store salesgirls, Mayme and Gladys, encounter an elderly, distinguished golfer shopping for sporting goods. When he asks for "a driver," the girls—unfamiliar with golf terminology—assume he means an automobile chauffeur, treating his request as absurdly out of place in a department store. The golfer's confusion and his attempts to clarify that he wants a left-handed golf driver (a type of club) are met with incredulous commentary from the girls, who find it ridiculous that anyone would want a "left-handed driver" of any kind. The satire targets working-class salesgirls' ignorance of leisure pursuits like golf—a sport associated with wealthier customers. The generation gap and class difference between the refined golfer and the slangy, dismissive young women provides the humor. The illustration caption about "college life" suggests concerns about education standards among the working class.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The child.—" LOVE YOU MORE’N I DO GRAN’MA. YOU DON'T WASH ME 80 OPTEN.” MAKING IT CLEAR. By ELLIS PARKER BUTLER, Author of Pigs Is Pigs.” WAS the noon hour in the great depart- ment store, and Mayme Fogarty had run up to the sporting goods department for a last fond word of farewell with Bud O’Laughlin, who was quitting his job. Every summer Bud took a place as second professional with some golf club, and he had just signed with the Westcote Coun- try Club and was leaving that afternoon. When Mayme, with Gladys O’Brien, reached the sporting goods department, Bud was elsewhere, but due back any minute. “Ain't he the fresh one!’’ said Mayme. I’dbeup. He might of stayed till I come!"” “Geel!” said Gladys. ‘Look what's here!’ Down the aisle came a customer. He needed no label to let one know he was looking for the sales-person in charge of the golf goods. He was tall and thin, with white hair and a white mustache cut short and crisp, and his garb was the final word in golf tog- gery. Over his shoulder hung a golf bag, and his brow was wrinkled with intense study. It was evident he was an intense golf- er in every respect, the sort that chooses his clubs with more care than he would choose his wife. “Oh, crickets!’’ said Mayme. ‘I a F know that kind. He'll be wanting to look at everything “He knowed ODE ON A. DISTANT PROSPECT OF COLLEGE LIFE. (Revised by R. T. Crane.) No more—if Scholarship is this. "Tis folly to be wise. in the golf section, and then some more. Say, it’s all off! I don’t get no chance to talk with Bud.’" “Yes, you do!’’ said Gladys. ‘‘You watch me. I don’t let no customer monopolize no friend of my friend when they want to have a little conve’sation. Nix!’ She patted her pompadour, rammed her leadpencil into it, pulled down her belt line, and wiggled up to the intense golfer. “Excuse me,’’ she said. thin’?”” “Yes, yes!"’ said the golfer, setting his golf bag carefully against a bicycle rack and pulling off his gloves. ‘Yes. I want a driver.’’ “Say, Mayme,’” said Gladys, ‘‘what doyou thinkof that! This gen’I’man says he wantsadriver!”” “‘Ain’the fresh!" said Mayme. ‘‘What does he think this is —an employment agency? He'll be askin’ you for a chauffeur next."” “No, my good girl, you misunder- stand me,”’ said the golfer. “What I want is a driver—a left-handed driv- er.”” . “Ain't he awful, Mayme!” said Gladys, with a gig- gle. ‘‘A lef’-hand- ed driver!’’ “You see, I’m left handed,’’ ex- plained the golfer. “Tuse a left-handed driver.’” “Well, ain’t that the limit!” said Gladys. ‘I sh'd think any kind of driver would do, so long as he could drive. You're “*Was you lookin’ for some- comicbooks.com