Judge, 1914-08-22 · page 8 of 24
Judge — August 22, 1914 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a humorous travel column by "Sue Zannah" mocking European beach culture, specifically Belgian customs at Ostend. The satire targets: **The Setup:** The American narrator attempts to introduce "lazying about" on beaches—a practice she assumes is uniquely European—but discovers it's actually universal human behavior. **The Joke:** When she tries to relax on the beach, she's immediately mobbed by cameras and cinematograph operators (early film crews). Rather than being uniquely European, the beach scene attracts the same intrusive modern apparatus everywhere—photographers and filmmakers pursuing "news" content. **The Point:** The satire ridicules how modern media (newsreels, photography) has colonized leisure and travel, turning peaceful moments into performative spectacles. It also gently mocks American tourists' assumptions about European sophistication and distinctiveness—finding that modernity and commercial intrusion are globally uniform. The accompanying illustrations show beach society and terrace dining, emphasizing how even supposed leisure is now mediated through cameras and crowds.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“AND HOT-POOTING IT UP THE BEACH CAME A CINEMATOGRAPH OPERATOR” U-r By SUE On tne Beacn, Ostenv, Bevcium. From WELL. Hello, U! I've just been trying to introduce your custom of lazing about on the beach, between each dip in the briny, to this coun- Pah! It can’t be ! Before I'd hardly finished scooping my armchair in the sand they were rubbering (got that word pat, haven't I?) round me six deep, the cameras were clicking like sew- ing machines and hot- footing it up the beach came a cinematograph operator who looked so tremenjously like busi- ness that I fled in utter dismay. Some folks are born to advertisement, others have advertise- ment thrust upon ’em, but the biggest batch pay to get their names in the papers; shows how unique I am, does- n’tit? that I should have skedaddelled. I wonder if ‘‘skedaddelled’’ is in the dictionary? Any- way, it was in our nursery when I was small. It means what one does after getting the order or having an acute desire to ‘‘quit’’! See? One of my Boy-Pals who is nearly-a-relation (his aunt is a cousin of my ex-mother-in-law's sister and little Johnny's bal- loon is smaller than the apple of our neighbour) had told me that over here my plan was not feasible. He said, ‘‘M’dear, “THEN WE DANCED” ope to ZANNAH you'll be mobbed. If you were knock-kneed, cross-eyed and had a hump it might be done, but as matters are (fancy calling me “‘matters’’!) you'll just gather the crowd like the honey pot gathers the flies!’ I didn’t believe him, however. I never do think twice about anything he says. He’s quite a dear in his own way, only he will walk along in the wake of the water- wagon yelling ‘Hi!’’ and then, when the driver turns round and aims to wait for him, he kneels down to tie up his bootlace or sneaks down a side street. He’s got somewhat of a limp, too; one leg has warped a bit. That comes from having had one foot up on the rail so frequently since he got out of the nursery and tu'n-down collars, You can quite see, therefore, can’t you, dear U? that I don’t depend much on what he says, “ON THE TERKASSE, WEERE DRINKS WERE TO BE HAD BY STRAWs OUT OP LONG Glasses” comicbooks.com