Judge, 1914-02-21 · page 7 of 24
Judge — February 21, 1914 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains six brief humorous sketches typical of 1880s satirical magazines: **"Strata of 1885"** mocks pseudo-intellectual pretension: a professor mistakes a discarded wire bustle (a rigid undergarment) for prehistoric bones, highlighting both archaeological credulity and the absurdity of 1880s fashion. **"A Rare Distinction"** is a simple insult joke about Blathers lacking brains "in the front of your face"—wordplay on spatial positioning. **"A Rare Occurrence"** suggests musical comedy is so bad it's shocking when anyone actually laughs. **"A Cry for Help"** plays on the fear of police intrusion—Blathers calls for burglars to protect himself from a policeman in his house, inverting expected social anxieties. **"The Origin of a Fad"** satirizes how quickly absurd fashions spread among women—a carpet-rug carried as a muff becomes trendy within days. **"Naturally"** offers wordplay on cats aging from kittens. The overall tone mocks contemporary vanities, pretension, and social conformity.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Coming! HEN critics with some awful knock That gives your soul a painful shock Smash laure ‘ou have labored for, Remember that this knock may be No harbinger of misery, But sign that Opportunity Is calling at your door! Mayhap the critics full of dread Are but her agents sent ahead, With stinging rap and raucous stir, To bid you rise betimes and see That you are armored cap-a-pie, To welcome and to follow her! John Kendrick Bangs. Strata of 1885 “Professor,’’ inquired Farmer Jimp, “what are you digging for in my back yard?”’ “I'll pay you well!’’ shouted the arche- ologist. ‘‘Great discovery! I’ve found the bones of a prehistoric mammal hith- erto unknown !"” “Sorry, professor; but that’s an old wire bustle that I buried over twenty years ago, along with some other junk.’’ A Rare Distinction “ce HAT do you mean by telling peo- ple that I haven't any brains behind my back?’’ demanded Blathers angrily, as he met Bimpson on the street. “I never said you hadn’t any brains behind your back,’’ retorted Bimpson. “‘What I said was that you hadn’t any brains in the front of your face!’’ A Rare Occurrence Arthur—What has happened to Stein- hammer? He looks all broke up. Oscar—Oh, he attended a new musical show the other ‘night and exploded with laughter at a new gag. A Cry for Help “Burglars! Burglars!’’ cried Blath- ers, sticking his head out of the window and yelling like mad. “‘What’s the row up there, mister?’’ asked a passerby. “For heaven's sake, friend,’ pleaded Blathers, ‘‘send a burglar here, will you? There’s a policeman in the house!’’ The Origin of a Fad MARCELLA, who had been gazing out of the window, suddenly began to laugh hysterically. “‘What in the world is the matter, child?’’ asked her mother, “When I finished my carpet rug,’’ Mar- cella explained, ‘‘I folded it across my lap and carried it that way down the street to show it to Rosemary.’’ “Well, what of it?”’ ‘That was only three days ago,’’ gasped Marcella, with a renewed outburst of mer- riment, ‘‘and now nearly every girl in the block is wearing a carpet-rag muff.’’ Time's Magic We find this law by Nature written: “No cat but what was once a kitten.’’ Is there, then, aught to marvel at When ‘‘playful kitten’’ turns ‘‘old cat’’? Naturally Cobb—What did the dancers have on? Webb—Nothing; they were having a dress rehearsal. comicbooks.com