Judge, 1913-11-22 · page 13 of 26
Judge — November 22, 1913 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story satirizes the social climbing of newly wealthy Americans in the early 20th century. Truman Treadway, whose family made a fortune in fat-rendering (a deliberately unglamorous source of wealth), is using fox hunting and estate ownership to gain social respectability and access to the upper classes. The accompanying illustration shows a woman (Lady Beldoir, a wealthy widow) conversing with a man before the hunt. The satire targets how Treadway pursues Lady Beldoir for marriage, hoping to combine their fortunes and gain legitimacy through association with old money and titled nobility. Lady Beldoir's participation in hunting—unusual for women at the time—suggests modern, independent wealth. The gossiping male characters exemplify how leisure-class men of modest means survive by trading in social gossip and observing their betters' affairs, highlighting the pretense and social anxiety of Gilded Age wealth.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
With Horn. and Hounds By J. A. WALDRON READWAY’S place has advantages, eh?” should say so. And his butler mixes a cocktail like a Plaza barman."’ Abingdon and Delmont had strolled out on the lawn at Sumach Lodge early in the morning to get a bit of fresh air before breakfast. They were of a house party invited by Truman Treadway to enjoy a fox hunt this T ksgiving day. “We're the only early birds, I guess, a yawn. “Oh, no. woods half an hour ago.’ “Strenuous enough to win note as a militant suffragette, that woman.”” “Not given to that sort of thing, I fancy. the roast if she hitches up with Treadway. the velvet hand and al! that, you know.’” “A pretty widow, though a bit too muscular to my mind. I understand Lord Beldoir’s male line expired with him,"’ “Yes; but his estate didn’t. She has that. Quite a financial combination that would be—Treadway’s and the Beldoir mil- lions, eh? And Abingdon and Delmont gossiped about their host like two old women. There are men of leisure without abundant money who fairly fatten on tittle-tattle about those * said Delmont with I saw Lady Beldoir cantering off through the Yet she will rule Domination with “‘And your men?”’ “‘We shan’t need the earth-stopper. peared and we must hunt after the drag. in, says the dogs are on edge for the run."’ “But I thought we'd have a real chase, doir here, you know, and she’s a sportswoman. her great sport. What’ll she think?” “‘Lor’, sir, the sport’s much the same, sir, as Lady Beldoir knows. I've seen a-many good hunts at ’ome with the drag.’ And so after breakfast a brave mounted company got to- gether to follow horn and hounds, There had been half a dozen women in the party the evening before, but Lady Beldoir was the only one who rode to hounds. The others before returning to bridge saw her off with the men as they followed the yelping dogs. As Lady Beldoir mounted, assisted by Treadway, he pressed her hand. ‘I'm giving you a fine hunt to-day”’ said he. ‘‘When will you give me an answer?"’ “If we get the fox,” she replied with a smile, ‘‘you may fix the wedding day!"” Helter-skelter they went, separating as they advanced, the slower ones being guided by the dogs’ chorus, and for some time it was a hunt indeed. Suddenly the baying of the hounds changed to less inspiring sounds, and as the laggards in the company came slowly up they found Treadway, Lady Beldoir, Jor- dan and his men still mounted watching the dogs in the brake. The fox has disap- Beggs, the whipper- I've got Lady Bel- I've promised whose courtes they accept, although they affect a so- cial superiority. Treadway’s grandfather had made a fortune through a fat-rendering establishment. In his turn Treadway’s father had rendered fat from everything he touched, and after a life of labor left enough to his son to finance a small kingdom. It takes more money these days to mean a fortune than it did a generation ago, when a mil- lion dollars conjured to the average mind a pile of coin as impressive as the Pyramid of Cheops. Now a mere million looks like a wheelbarrow load of scrap tin. Treadway had tried coaching as an amusement as well as a means for mounting the social ladder, but found his passenger lists did not average much higher socially than the patronage of the Fifth Avenue stages. So he de- cided to go into something that would insure him better companionship. He transformed a great tract of land in remote New Jersey into a fine estate and resolved to try hunting. . Through letters of introduction he had associated briefly with a hunting set in England, where he met Lady Beldoir. She was a veritable Gay Spanker, and sport ran in her blood. They were mutually attracted. He sembled a fine stable of hunters, gathered hounds said e descended from the famous Quorn and other English packs, hired a veritable jewel of a huntsman named Jordan through a London sport journal, gave Jordan full swing as to hunt servants and game, and now was ready with his guests to enjoy a run for the fox. Treadway was up with the sun and made for the sta- bles. ‘‘The barometer has risen, Jordan,”’ said he. Yes, sir. And the pavement in the stable yard sweat: “Then we shall have a fine day, eh?” “Yes, sir. With this clear air the dogs’ll follow without check.”’ ““THEN WE SHALD HAVE A FINE DAY, EH comicbooks.com