Judge, 1913-09-13 · page 5 of 24
Judge — September 13, 1913 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two separate stories. The top illustration depicts a rural scene with a man and woman discussing a long-standing disagreement—likely about the man's wife being "a suffragis." The main story, "Why Was She Mad?" by Jane Belfield, concerns a character named Crenshaw on a train to Spokane. At the annual convention, Crenshaw encounters a blonde woman and other men discussing "the celebrated young caricaturist, William Willis." The humor hinges on someone asking an impertinent question. Crenshaw, described as a caricaturist himself, decides to "cut for deal"—suggesting a card game or competition will determine the outcome. The story mocks social awkwardness and professional rivalry among artists, with the woman's anger presumably stemming from an insulting question or perceived slight.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Ts your wife a suffragist, Mr. Silo?" AS CRENSHAW entered the Pullman, a tall, blond girl in the ceyter of the car rose to place her hat in the rack. Crenshaw stooped and, 2, with his accustomed cour- tesy, returned a small object that had dropped MQ ather feet. But, in lieu (eX. of thanks, the blond girl z blushed scarlet, drew back with offended dig- nity, and quickly thrust what he offered into the pocket of her coat. Crenshaw continued his walk. At the further end of the car two men hailed him. “Crenny! course?” **Yes—the annual convention."” “What do you say to an hour’s quiet game of poker before lunch?”” Bound for Spokane, of cas Larsen OF LONG STANDING “Yes, ma’am—goin’ on eleven years naow."” ‘Indeed !"* Why Was She Mad? By JANE BELFIELD “I'll join you, boys.’” The porter brought a camp stool. “Poets and poker!’? The younger of the others turned jovially to his com- panion. ‘That is, you and Crenshaw may claim the laurels, but I’m not wear- ing any wreaths. A fellow asked me the other day what I was in the business world.” “And you told him?”” “An attempt.”” “That's not bad,’ his vis-a-vis rejoined cynically, ‘*for the celebrated young cari- caturist, William Willis." “Anyway, boys, I’m hunting types “Yes, ma-am—fr'm sciatica."’ this trip’’— Willis nodded across the aisle—‘‘and bursting with curiosity to pry into other people’s business, In proof, if I win, I ask Crenshaw a cer- tain question.”” “Impertinent, retorted quickly. “‘Impertinent, of course! It is the business of a caricaturist to be imperti- nent. What do you say, Crenny? Does the question go?” “Oh, it goes—if I can; but aquestion, my boy, does not necessarily involve an answer."" “Is it original—the motto?”” “Oh, one must expect epigrams from Crenshaw,”’ the second man interposed briskly; ‘‘but, see here, Willie, if I win, I ask Cren the same question’? The artist stared unbelievingly. ‘*How do you know what I am going to ask?” Crenshaw cut for deal. of course!'’ Crenshaw comicbooks.com