Judge, 1914-04-25 · page 8 of 24
Judge — April 25, 1914 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a humorous short story by Byron Williams titled "In Our Town," published in *Judge* magazine. The narrative describes a comedic incident involving Sam Swan, the editor of the local *Advocate* newspaper. **The Plot:** Sam retrieves his winter trousers from storage and warms them by the office stove, unaware that hornets have nested in the pocket. When heated, the hornets attack him. Sam frantically runs through town, eventually colliding with Mandy Hickson outside a store, scattering her eggs and crashing into a candy display. **The Satire:** The piece gently mocks small-town life and the local newspaper editor's pretensions. The opening suggests Sam's printing press creates disproportionate excitement in the village—then delivers a slapstick punchline showing how trivial the actual disruption is (a man chased by hornets). **The Bottom Cartoon:** "The Refining Influence" depicts cowboys dismissing guns because women may enter politics, joking that frontier masculinity is threatened by female suffrage/political participation.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
UR town was quite lively last Thursday fer about thirty minutes. Sumtimes I think th’ power of th’ press is greatly underestimated. Sam Swan, who runs th’ Advocate and does job print- in’, was th’ cause of th’ temporary perkin’ up of th’ village—that is, Sam was th’ instrument of th’ uplift, anyhow. Yew see, Sam, unlike most editors, owns two pairs of trousers, th’ ones he is a-wearin’ and a winter pair that he'd left hangin’ out in th’ shed behindt th’ Adro- cate cffice. Well, with th’ first touch of frost, Sam begin tew remember them heavy trousers, and yisterday mornin’, bright and early, before th’ lady type- setter had cum down, Sam builds up a nice, brisk fire in th’ office stove and goes out and hauls in them warm, comfortable pants that’s been restin’ all summer, and puts ’em on. Then he stands with his THE REFINING Byitander—You old punchers may as well throw away your guns. i In Our Town By BYRON WILLIAMS back tew th’ stove and prepares to git well toasted. Gist about then things begin tew hap- pen. Yew see, durin’ th’ summer sum pesky hornets hed found Sam's trousers and had made a nest in th’ pistol pocket of same. When th’ cold weather cum, they was still hangin’ onto their summer quarters—chilled, but merely sleepin’, as Sam discovered when he backed up tew th’ stove. Sam felt sumthin’ kinda hot stickin’ him, gently at first, and then—all tew oncet he shot out of that printin’ office with a yell yew could of heard above a hull flock of circus calliopes tootin’ up Main Street. ichlish Sam—By heck! if she's elected I'll trade my gun fer a manicure set. Fer about fifteen minutes there wuz more fireworks on our principal bullyvard than there wuz last Fourth, when th’ celebration took fire and went off by mis. take. If Sam had swallered all the red pepper this side of Baltuff’s grocery store and set down on a package of red-hot needles, he couldn't a-been more excited. “Save me!’’ he bawled, rushin’ intew Th’ Boston Emporium, slappin’ hisself about fourteen inches spirally eround from his watch fob. ‘Save me!"’ Mandy Hickson wuz gist cummin’ out of th’ store, with four dozen fresh eggs at seventy-eight cents a dozen, when Sam headed in, and in about a minute Mandy and Sam and th’ hornets wuz all mixed up in th’ scrambled eggs. Mandy couldn't help herself much on account of her styl- ishness in wearin’ a slit skirt, and when Sam managed to assume a perpendicular position, he slipped in th’ yolks and went head fust into th’ showcase, amongst th’ caramels and candy hearts. INFLUENCE I hear a woman's goin’ to run fer sheriff in this county. comicbooks.com