Judge, 1913-10-25 · page 15 of 24
Judge — October 25, 1913 — page 15: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several humorous pieces satirizing early 20th-century American life: **"Ecstasy Written in a City Restaurant"** parodies romantic poetry, depicting a diner's relief at escaping the noise and crowds of restaurants filled with "tangoists" and dancers—mocking the era's dance crazes (turkey trot, waltz). **"He 'Raised' It"** jokes about rural life: a farmer's son admits his father caught neighbors' chickens in their garden, suggesting he'll catch more—a mild commentary on countryside neighborly disputes. **"The Poet Lariat of Snaky Bend"** is frontier humor about a man claiming to be a "lariat" (rope) poet. The rough bunch, misunderstanding or rejecting his pretension, hangs him—satirizing both artistic pretension and frontier justice. **"Burglar Proof"** and **"Ideal"** are brief domestic and small-town jokes about apathy and ironic political commentary respectively. The illustration shows an aerial mail delivery scene, referencing the then-novel New York-Chicago air mail service.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
—+ —— a Ecstasy Written in a City Restaurant THE FIDDLERS homeward plod their weary way, The taxis take the tangoists from their tea, The waiters with their tips are blithe and gay, The place is left to silence and to me. T’ll have a steak without a turkey trot, Hashed brown potatoes with no grizzly bear, Some waltzless coffee in a silver pot, A tuneless smoke to drive away my care. Full many a man is born to sit unfed, While restaurants make room for shuffling feet— Praise heaven for the grace that kindly led My footsteps where I'd sit in peace and eat! —W. D, Nesbit. He “Raised” It Mr. Rural Hamlet (to ministerial guest)—Do have some more of the corn, Dr. Eighthly. It came out of our own garden. Little Buttin Hamlet—Yes, 'n’ the chicken came outer our own garden, too. ' Pa said he bet the folks next door would keep their hens at home after he caught a few more of '’em. Life’s fitful fever has been diagnosed as baseballitis. PUTTING ONE OVER ON HIM Mrs, Peck—John Henry, did you mail that letter? J. Henry—Yes, my dear, I—er—held it in my hand all the way tothe mail-box. I didn’t even put it in my pocket. I re- member distinctly, because Mrs, Peck—That will ter to mail. ‘The Poet Lariat of Snaky Bend . "TWAS Bootleg Jackson from afar who told the bunch at Casey’s bar About the melancholy end of poetry at Snaky Bend. It seems that Bootleg just had read that England’s lau- reate was dead, So up he pipes, ‘‘It makes me think of such another poet gink, Who said he was a ‘lariat,’ and that’s the word we took him at. Three-fingered Ike told him, ‘I hope you know a lari- at’s a rope.’ And then the bunch closed in for fair, and poet stock fell off right there. : We hung that poet where he stood. We hung him high and strong and good, And pinned a label to his hat: ‘He Was One Poet La- do, John Henry. I gave you no let- riat!’ Which was the sudden start and end of poetry at Snaky Bend.” —Morton Birge. Burglar Proof *‘John—John, dear,’’ whispered Mrs. Timmid, shak- ing her sleeping husband violently by the arm, ‘‘there’s a burglar in the house!’’ “Oh, well, let him burgle,’’ returned John sleepily. “He can have the silver if he wants it, but the cuss isn’t going to rob me of my sleep."" Ideal “There’s a queer case across the street,’’ saya the native. ‘‘Old Jim Fergus was struck by lightning last year, and he can’t speak a word now, although he used to be able to make the whoopingest stump speech you ever heard.”” “‘Why don’t you folks boom him for Secretary of State?’’ asks the visitor. A DIVERSION ON THE NEW YORK-CHICAGO AIR LINE—PEEDING THE ALLEGHENY EAGLES comicbooks.com