Judge, 1912-08-03 · page 7 of 26
Judge — August 3, 1912 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes anxieties about the women's suffrage movement. The main cartoon depicts a man and woman on a bench—she reads while he sits separately, illustrating role-reversal fears. The poem "A Query" expresses a common anti-suffrage anxiety: if women gain equality and enter the workforce, will men be forced into traditionally "feminine" domestic roles, including wearing women's clothing? The speaker worries that granting women "the daily wage" and political power will invert gender norms entirely. The humor relies on exaggerating suffragists' actual goals into absurd predictions. Other brief jokes mock women's logic ("Because"), romantic manipulation, and vegetarianism—popular among progressive movements of the era. The tone is condescending, treating women's equality as inherently ridiculous rather than a serious political position. This reflects Judge magazine's conservative stance on women's rights during the suffrage debates of the early 20th century.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“THIRD PERSON SINGULAR.” A Query. H, MUSE, the future is my theme, That day which every man forsees, When suffragettes wear trouserette, And shape a mighty State's decrees. When women earn the daily wage, Whilst household ties revert to men; But this I fain would ascertain— Will I be wearing trousers then? Oh, will the sterner sex revert, And come at length to female airs; Will they adopt the waist and skirt, And all that modern woman wears; And will the maiden court the youth, (Oh, sweetest words of tongue or pen!) But apropos, I'd like to know— Will I be wearing trousers then? I'm wearing trousers now, Oh, Muse, Though frocks would better serve my end; I sweep and dust, because I must, My wife is boss, you may depend; So if this suffrage move succeeds, I will not sigh nor ery, **Amen’’; Yet I forsooth, would learn the truth— Will I be wearing trousers then? Frank G. Welsh. They Are Wise. Even the manufacturers of the newest incubators will not advise us to count our chickens before they’re hatched. Would Be Awful. He—“‘If you will not accept me, then I shall blow out my brains with this pistol.”’ She—*‘Oh, don’t,’’ she cried, ‘‘it must be awful not to have any brains.’ Now. “*A word to the wise is sufficient’”’ Was one of the Romans’ old saws, Now a word to the “‘Whys?”’ Further question defies, When that word is a woman's ‘‘ Because."’ TRY THIS ON YOUR PIANO The Power of Thespia. Rhoda Calvert's face was livid with passion. Her eyes gleamed like baleful stars before which all men involuntarily quailed. “Answer me!"’ she screamed, clutch- ing the deep crimson passion-roses from her corsage and trampling them ruth- lessly at her feet; ‘Will you do it?” Roland Parke drew nearer to her, but the girl turned her beautiful wilful face toward him with an imperious gesture. “Do not come a step nearer unless you consent,"’ she cried bitterly. ‘‘Un- less you will do as I wish I shall never see you again! You shall rue the day that you was born!" Roland Parke knew but too well that the girl would keep her word. No power could stay the current of her un- governable self-will. No human being could hold in subjection the fierce un- tamed temper of the beautiful tyrant. With a sigh he dug up a dime and they passed into the moving-picture par- lor where she wished to see if the scales of mercy and justice were still evenly balanced. The Waiter Answered. “Andis this a purely vegeterian res- taurant?’’ inquired the dyspeptic. “*Yep,’’ answered the waiter. ‘‘There’s no rheumatism in this joint."’ Frank A. Heywood. comicbooks.com