Judge, 1913-10-18 · page 5 of 24
Judge — October 18, 1913 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This cartoon mocks the women's suffrage movement through medical metaphor. The title "Suffragitis" presents voting rights activism as a disease afflicting women. The sketch shows a weary waiter named Mr. Kerry complaining to his boss about losing money—his troubles stem from female customers (implied suffragists) monopolizing tables for hours while conducting activism. The satire suggests suffragettes are nuisances disrupting normal business and social order. The accompanying story "Not Luck" by Clarence Day, Jr. elaborates this theme: a taxi driver complains about a female passenger who kept him waiting three hours before going to "the suffrage office." The implication is that suffrage activists are self-absorbed, inconsiderate, and wasteful of working men's time and earnings. The cartoon reflects anti-suffrage sentiment common in early 20th-century publications.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
«YOU'LL like the pie to-day, Mr. Kerry,’’ said the waiter. “I'll not then,’’ Mr. Kerry answered, scraping his bowl for the A last bits of the beefstew. YP) ‘No pie for me, John. I iy am broke.’? Ne 4, The waiter looked past iy the dingy ferns and the i crullers in the restaurant window, at Mr. Kerry’s old hansom and still older horse, ‘Business light?”” he asked. “Business punk!’’ said Mr. Kerry. “I could make more money driving a plow than a cab, “That farm stuff is about all I’m fit for,’” he went on. ‘‘I’m broke, and it ain’t because of bad luck, mind you. Some fellers I know are always blatting about luck. Not me. I've myself to blame. All my little miseries call me papa. That’s what gets me sore, to know that it’s up to me, every jinged time I lose out on a piece of pie. 2 Not Luck By CLARENCE DAY, JR. ET “Take to-day, f’r instance. I ought ’a’ done fine to-day. I took a lady toa store on Broadway this morning—that Japanee place—never can call to mind the name of that place. Well, anyhow, it wasn’t much of a run, but she told me to wait. And there me and the horse stood for nigh three hours for her, in all that rain, until out steps a lady that looks like mine, and has me take her to the suffrage office, in Twenty-ninth Street. ‘**How much is it, driver?’ says she, when I pulls up. “*Four dollars,’ says I. “*Four dollars for those few blocks? You'd oughter go and study '‘rithmetic some,’ says she, handing me a fifty-cent piece. ‘«*Why, lady,’ says I, ‘I’ve been wait- ing for you for three hours and more, in the rain!’ “**Oh, no,’ says she; ‘not me, you haven’t! You must have been waiting for some one else, not me’; and in with her into the suffrage dive with a bang, and back with me a-flying to that store. Nothing doing, of course. Lost my whole day there. I'll have 'em marked after this, when they say to wait.’’ A driver two tables off called out to John, He wanted hot mince pie. Mr. Kerry sat on, watching him munch it. “Mr. Stout’ll be coming in soon,’’ said John. ‘‘Maybe he'd treat you.’’ “Stout treat me? That big, red bunch of foxiness? Say, John,’’ Mr. Kerry sniffed, ‘‘I'll just make you a present in advance of all the pie Stout gives me.’’ He poured some water from a glass into his coffee cup, and, after slushing it around a little, drained it. comicbooks.com