Judge, 1913-03-01 · page 8 of 28
Judge — March 1, 1913 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a satirical piece mocking the women's suffrage movement. A small dog narrates his diary entries about his mistress's activism for voting rights ("Votes for Women"). The satire works by inverting priorities: the dog observes that his mistress prioritizes her suffrage campaign over her own baby and pet. She carries the dog while neglecting the infant, and wears an elaborate "Votes for Women" hat so large it obscures her vision. The dog sardonically notes that when she shows him affection in public, onlookers become anarchists—suggesting the suffragettes are viewed as dangerous radicals. The title's phrase "With Apologies to the Suffragettes" is sarcastic mockery. The cartoon ridicules female activists as frivolous, self-absorbed, and neglectful of proper domestic duties, a common anti-suffrage argument of the era. The dog becomes the unlikely voice of reason, implying women neglect natural feminine roles when pursuing political power.
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telephones for the reporters and gets a column in every paper that's soft enough to print it. Well, my mistress kept her eyes on me, and I kept mine on the baby. So didevery one else. The infant saw how unhappy I was and held out her arms to me, but I could not get out from under the foliaQe on that hat. I had to do something, so I snapped viciously ata man carrying a package that didn’t smell per- fectly fresh. My mistress laughed and kissed me! What about that, eh? Everybody in the car who wasn’t an anarchist immediately became one. Now, if she had slapped me and kissed the baby, her “Votes for Women’’ flag wouldn’t have looked so ridiculous! Neither would I! I’m going to formu- late plans for a discontinuance of this nonsense. If she doesn’t love the baby, she can’t love me, and that is my ultimatum. But I'm not going to write any more to-night, ‘cause my feelings are running away with me. Tuespay—Last night there was a dinner party. When the ladies assembled to smoke cigarettes and tell stories not fit to print, I picked out an awfully pretty girl, who seemed very much bored, and laid down at her feet. She liked to have me there—first, because she is quite fond of me, and secondly, because she had on a pink chiffon gown, and pink looks lovely combined with me. A nearsighted Englishman came in, and, seeing me, thought the girl had dropped her muff. He tried to pick me up, and found that I wasn’t a muff—decidedly not! Wish there were ; . : ; enough of me to make a bearskin rug, so I could AN OLD-WORLD IDEA FOR THE COMMUTER. always lie under that girl’s feet! She is very beau- tiful and her waist was cut alphabetically. It hada ‘ + v-shaped back, only it was a capital V. The front of T h e D lary o fa P et Do & - it was not any particular letter I ever saw, though every one exclaimed ‘‘O"’ when looking at it. With Apologies to the Suffragettes. By JANE VIVIAN. MOnDay—it I were a man, I'd be a socialist; but, beinga last night. My well-bred (at times) dog, of very small dimensions, I'll head sticking out keep a diary and let my overcharged feelings drift through of the front of her that. coat looked just First, I'll record that this morning I was taken out with the like a white or- baby to collect votes for women. Did my mistress carry the chid, so I got in baby? No, she didnot! Shecar- without being ried me! The nurse carried the challenged. The sweetest thing in babies ever opera wasone that neglected by a heartless mother. has a lot of geese We got aboard a trolley car, with on the stage, but a big ‘‘Votes for Women" flagand there were many, alot of badges. Nobody wasim- many more geese pressed. To start with—my mis- in the boxes! I tress wore a large picture hat, don't know which lined with light blue. Feathers cackled the loud- hung from it like foliage drooping er, but I got so from a willow tree. I saton her nervous trying to shoulder, under the foliage, close decide, she had to against her face (per force, not take me out, and per choice). The baby sat hud- then I was discov- dled up in the nurse's lap,allin ered and she a heap, looking like some beauti- couldn't get me in ful angel gone awry. Her mother again. On the wouldn’t care whether she went way home I heard A TIP FOR A TRIP, awry or away, if she would only my mistress ask Artis}—Contemplating 2 purchase, sir? go somewhere ; but if J am out thechauffeurif he Visitor—No ; I was just counting up to see if I had of her sight for a minute, she had heard anyone the price of a trip to Italy. WepNEsDAY—My mistress wore me to the opera “AND THEY PRATTLE OP THE PLEASURE OF GIVING I” comicbooks.com