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Judge, 1914-08-15 · page 6 of 24

Judge — August 15, 1914 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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Judge — August 15, 1914 — page 6: Judge, 1914-08-15

What you’re looking at

This is humorous advice about American summer vacation culture, likely from the 1910s-1920s. The text satirizes: **The Vacation Outfit Problem**: Judge mocks how city workers buy excessive camping gear from sporting goods "department athletes" (salesmen), then progressively discard it while hiking into the wilderness—keeping only what's actually useful. **The Fake Tan Requirement**: The piece jokes that returning to the office requires visible proof of outdoor time. The anecdote about the "dishonest young man" who faked a tan using iodine and aloes (without actually vacationing) satirizes this absurd status competition among office workers. **The illustrations** show wilderness camping scenes and "THE LINER OF THE FUTURE"—a steamship, suggesting vacation travel contexts. **The Satire's Point**: Judge ridicules urban middle-class anxiety about appearing sufficiently "outdoorsy" and properly rested to colleagues, and the wasteful consumer culture surrounding vacations.

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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

portage; so do your vacation shopping early, for one of the most restful things connected with a vacation is the con- templation of the freight you intended to tote with you that later you have the joy of leaving behind. Also, when the time for actually leaving comes along in July or August, you can sell this excess equipment to a secondhand dealer for enough money to make the trip. Having arrived at the point of debarkation in a region populated principally by sandflies and cedarmakers, and when the toy engine, coach, three boxcars and waycar have disap- peared among the tamaracks, you should plunge immediately into the wilderness. Here, again, the remnants of the outfit assembled for you by the blond sporting goods department athlete will prove of inestimable value. As you proceed into the virgin for- est, at the end of the first half mile you will discard the folding camp stove, deciding that broiling your fish over a campfire will be much more romantic. Another half mile, and you will be ready to get along with one less blanket. A half mile more, and you will hoist the bread can into the alders. When you arrive at your camping place, after three or four miles of hiking through the woods, you will have just about the outfit that you ought to have selected in the first place. This process also has another important advantage: If you get lost in the bush, the folks from town can always find you; they can trace you by your junk. It is well to time your trip so that you will leave the railroad early in the morning. This will make it certain that you will plunge far enough into the aforesaid wilderness by afternoon, so that it will be impossible to turn back. Otherwise you would probably show up in town again next morning. Also, it will give you an appetite for the first meal you cook over acampfire. Also, that meal will send you to bed hungry enough so that you will be able to stand for the breakfast the next day. Not knowing whether it is your particular intention to fish or sail or canoe or what, we shall not attempt particular advice as to particular vacation vocations. It doesn’t matter what your particular intention was, anyway. If it was to fish, you THE LINER OF THE FUTURE “WHY DON'T YOU COME IN? LOOK aT ME!" will find that the boating is fine. If it was to botanize, the small-mouth bass will bite you {in the leg every time you go in swimming. The best way is to go prepared for eventuali- ties. There are sure to be plenty of eventualities. You will probably wish you had brought fewer flies or films and more pennyroyal. But if you go back to town with a dark-brown color, your vacation will be considered a complete success. This may be acquired in one of two ways: either by staying out in the sun until you are well done, or by not washing the neck. The lat- ter method will be found much less painful. Indeed, in some cases it will be found absolutely necessary if the first method is followed. But under no consideration should you go back to town without the peanut but- ter complexion. If you do, the boss and the rest of the office will doubt whether you really have been away. We once knew a dishonest young man in a large city who never went to the woods at all. Instead, he took in the amusement parks in the afternoon and the cabarets in the evening, and rubbed aloes and iodine on his neck every night be- fore he went to bed. He came back to the office after ten days, looking, as one of the stenographers remarked with charming originality, ‘‘as brown as a berry.’’ Now he has a reputation around the place for being a regular lumberjack. And his vaca- tion cost him only $14.35. Seriously (and probably this may seem to be where we begin to get funny—that is the way it usually is with us; when we say ‘‘serijous- ly,’’ people get ready to laugh), se- tiously, if you want to go to the comicbooks.com