Judge, 1913-07-19 · page 8 of 24
Judge — July 19, 1913 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several satirical pieces typical of early 20th-century American humor: **"Smith Surprised"** mocks workplace exploitation. A manufacturer praises an exemplary employee for his honesty and diligence, then fires him—reasoning that such conscientious workers are security risks who will steal company secrets for competitors. The satire critiques ruthless industrial practices. **"Proper Self-poise"** stereotypes Bostonians as emotionally reserved. A well-dressed Bostonian is knocked down by runaway horses, dragged through mud, and loses teeth, yet maintains composure enough to politely greet his rescuers with "Pleasant day, isn't it, gentlemen?"—satirizing excessive propriety. **"Stew versus Roast"** contrasts marriage choices. A woman chose poor but devoted Jim over wealthy John, trading fancy restaurant meals for cheap stew joints. She misses the food but prefers Jim's company—a sentimental take on love versus money. The remaining pieces are light social humor about summer fashion and leap-year dating customs.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Smith Surprised Soon after entering his office, the manufacturer rang the bell under his desk, and Smith, the in- dustrious one, stepped into the office. “Smith,” said the manufacturer in his gravest tone, as he r moved his glasses, ‘I have been observing your industry for the past few months. Your ability for work has astounded me; no detail seems too small for you, and you are as honest as the day is long. No task seems too great for you to handle. You are the first to arrive in the morning and the last to pass out of the door in the evening’’—— Yes, sir, yes, sir,”’ replied the indus- trious one, ons of a fatincrease in his weekly stipend passing before him. ‘1 have always tried my best.” “Therefore,"? continued employer, “T want you to clear out of this concern at the end of this week, and clear out for good. It's just men of your stamp who worm out all the business secrets of a concern, and then go and obtain employ- ment with a rival show around the cor- ner. So beat it, and beat it fast." Adjustable The summer girl knows how to drape, And here and there she'll pin it; But her bathing suit has little shape Until her shape gets in it. Proper Self-poise It REQUIRES a great deal in the way of ex- citement to deprive the true Bostonian of his self-poise and a proper regard for the proprieties of life. This was illus- trated when a middle- aged and quite correctly clad Bostonian got in the way of a runaway pairof horses. He was knocked down, dragged fifty feet in the mud, banged against an ash can, which upset and covered him with ashes, His nose was ble ig and three front teeth were missing when two policemen lift- ed him to his feet. Nev- ertheless, his first words following a bloody smile were, “Pleasant day, isn’t it, gentlemen?” Revenge “Hello, Jack! How are you and Nan gettingon?”” She playéd me a mean How's that?"" She married another fellow." SHE BELIEVES IN LEAP-YEAR Edvard —What's so rare as a day in June? Minnie—1 should say a day in February. GETTING INTO DEEP WATER Stew versus Roast I™ GLAD I married Jim instead Of John—though Johnny's got the coin, When me and John went out, we fed Like swells—along the Tenderloin, On chicken, roast, chops, steak or squab, With frosty bottles on the side; But eatin’ now's a sort of job— I guess I’ve kinder lost my stride. For poor old Jimmy leads me to A side-street, paper-napkin dump, Where soupy smells of mutton stew Remind me I'm an awful chump. We pick our teeth, and Jim'll say, “Old girl, come on! You're lookin’ glum. Let’s float along the Great White Way And get some beers— that’s goin’ some !"* And when we pass the good hotels, Take it from me, I never stop; Them crispy, roasty, toasty smells Give me the solar-plexus flop. It's Johnny's world! I fill my chest And dream of pocketbooks and him— But, say, I bet you never guessed I'd rather smell the stew with Jim. Jane Burr. comicbooks.com