Judge, 1913-11-29 · page 11 of 24
Judge — November 29, 1913 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story-cartoon satirizes the nouveau riche and the absurdity of marrying for beauty alone. Dr. Wellington Jones, a successful specialist who made his fortune treating dyspepsia (indigestion) in wealthy men, marries a young, beautiful woman—then must pretend to be fashionable to satisfy her social ambitions. The joke: On their honeymoon in Scotland, hunting to appear aristocratic, Jones asks his wife what she'd like him to shoot. She requests animals for furs (ermine, sable) and then naively asks if there are seals present—revealing her complete ignorance of geography and wildlife. The "tiny cloud on the honeymoon" is their intellectual incompatibility. The satire targets both Jones's social climbing and the emptiness of marrying purely for looks. The illustration shows them in hunting attire under bare trees, already suggesting disillusionment despite the honeymoon setting.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WELLINGTON WILBERFORCE ay JONES, after winning his degree = as a Doctor of Medicine, became a special- = ist. Most physicians these days become 2 ai specialists. Jones experimented until he found a cure for dyspeps' Everybody has dyspepsia. The laboring man gets it from mixed ales and antagonistic foods, and the millionaire gets it because he makes his brain work at times when his stomach should do its duty and exercises only his imagination. Jones wisely determined to turn his attention to millionaires. He was no philanthropist, and there are ten thousand dyspepsia cures in the drug shops for the laboring man, who may try them one after another for comparatively little money. In an incredibly short period Jones became a millionaire him- self. Then he took to wife a very young woman for her beauty alone, and she at once insisted he should become fashionable. AUNDGOGNNEUONEOOODAUOONEAEOUAUGONNOCAUODOOEOOUOUOGOUOOEOOONOOOONILE The Specialist By J. A, WALDRON = UAUECUACOuO44voovososuoscuuuuacocnccccacececncencevennecnngannnite To be truly fashionable, after native experiments, Jones hired a shooting box in Scotland and went there with Mrs. Jones. They had been outfitted in Lon- don with all the regalia appertaining to hunting, and one day Jones and Mrs. Jones set out to hunt alone. There was the usual multitude of servants on the place, but Jones was an original sort of person and purposed to show his independence of servile attendance. Besides, there was still light in the honeymoon. “What would you like me to shoot, dear?’’ he asked. “Some animals,’’ she replied. ‘‘I would dearly like an er- mine coat and a jacket of sable, and possibly a muff. Do you think there are seals here, too?’’ Jones looked at her, and some doub* as to the breadth of her general knowledge for the first time intruded. It was very like a tiny cloud on the honeymoon. ‘Why, my dear,’’ he said, comicbooks.com