Judge, 1912-06-01 · page 6 of 24
Judge — June 1, 1912 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This satire mocks both the absurd earnings of comic strip artists ($50,000/year—enormous for the era) and the tastelessness of their humor. The joke: an artist draws a "funny" strip about a boy placing nitro-glycerine on his father's chair as a prank. The irony is that the artist's own son is doing the exact same thing to *his* father's chair. The artist will soon experience violent comeuppance—blown through the roof by his own child's prank—while newspaper readers find this karmic explosion hilarious. The accompanying humor pieces are lighter fare: a woman applying for a "poetic license" (a pun), and a nostalgic poem celebrating fishing season over worldly worries. These suggest the magazine's mix of biting satire and gentle wordplay typical of Judge magazine's approach to American social commentary.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Comic-supplement Artist. HIS is a comic-supplement artist. His salary is said to be $50,000 a year. Yes, it is true that all this money is paid because he is a humorist and draws such funny pictures. If he had to live by his art alone and not by his humor, he would be arrested for crimi- nal neglect and prosecuted under the pure-food laws. It is such a funny series of pictures the artist is drawing! He can hardly work for laughter. It is all about a lit- tle boy and a can of nitro-glycerine. He is about to play a little joke on father. He will blow poor father through the roof, and all the readers will laugh and laugh. No, my children, the artistic humorist does not know that his own little son is also an embryo comic-supplement humorist and is fixing something to father’s chair. If he knew, he would be mad and swear wicked oaths. He will know in a minute. He is going to be surprised. What is that awful nois It is an explosion. That crash is the comic-supplement artist going through the roof. It is such a funny joke on father! The little boy is doubled up with mirth. Of course the funny giant pow- OS ene TOPE ‘ AN ANCIENT SOFA WHICH HAS BEEN IN MURIEL'S FAMILY FOR MANY der has quite destroyed the picture father wasdrawing. If father could be found, he would be awfully mad. But the readers of the Sunday paper are glad. They are wishing more comic- supplement artists had cute little humor- ists for sons. Starting in Business. Pretty Miss—‘‘Is this the license bur- eau, please?” Clerk—' sd Pretty Miss—‘‘ Well, I" my first book of poems and I want to take out a poetic license—how much will it be?”’ just finished “PIXIG SOMETHING TO PATHER'S CHAIR.” GENERATIONS Ye Song of Ye Fisherman. [According to the came laws the trout season 1s now open.] Now what care I for politics and all its mad and foolish tricks, and dema- gogic spouting? We've reached the time of year so glad when I can drop the woe and gad of daily cares and go, my lad, with rod and reel a-trouting! business cares be what they may? Let happen what mayhap to-day in all this world of doubting. I have no care, for free am I to take my rod, my reel, my fly, and to the distant rillets hie to take my fill of trouting! Prue may be cross, and Bess un- kind, but naught I care! I shall not mind their frowning or their pouting. But from the city’s whirl I'll slip and to the vales and hillsides skip, and pool and pond and brook- let whip in gay and joyous trouting! rod, the reel, the hook and line, the quiet ways and fish for mine! I'moff upon my outing, 'mid byways peaceful and se- rene, up in the hills so softly green where trouble never shows his mien the while I'm at my trouting ! —carisle smith. comicbooks.com