Judge, 1914-09-05 · page 8 of 24
Judge — September 5, 1914 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a humorous letter from Sue Zannah in Paris to a friend "U" (likely the magazine's reader). The cartoons illustrate the letter's themes of romantic pursuit and social pretense. **Top cartoon**: Shows a woman at a dining table with a man attempting to hold her hand across it—depicting the awkward flirtation referenced in the caption. **Bottom cartoon**: Titled "He Lost the Rich, But Kept the Idle," shows a woman lounging idly, likely satirizing how some women of leisure spent their time. **The satire**: Sue humorously describes her attempts to impress U through elaborate dress and proper grammar, then admits she's abandoned this facade. She's now comfortable in old clothes, describing Paris's summer heat and her leisurely activities at the Bois (a fashionable park). The joke targets the performative nature of courtship and wealthy women's idle lifestyles—Sue presents herself as refreshingly authentic compared to typical social pretense of the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“TRIES TO GRAB MY HAND ACROSS THE TABLE” U-r SUE Paris. From By EAR U: It’s quite good to find myself writing you again, and doing it so naturally, too; sort of as if we'd shared the same cradle in babyhood, not to mention the same bottle. The first time, honestly now, I really felt awfully bashful! Proof? Well, didn’t I doll up to the nines just for the job of sitting down at my writing table and picking up my pen in your honor? Why, I'd dressed up so grand that the maid got “HE Lost THE RICH, BCT KEPT THE IDLE” ope to ZANNAH out the best tea service, under the impression that I was ex- pecting company and had forgotten to say so. I was freshly marcelled, and my little pink nails were that manicured I just had to blink every time I looked at ’em; and as for my frock, «+ well, it was one of those creations such as are thought out by a long-haired male tailorette in delirium tremens: a whisp of chiffon, a red rose and a dead cat slung together, the whole labeled $200 or ‘‘This side on with care’’! “*You see,” thought I to myself, thought I, ‘‘I must make a good impressicn; and as best clothes generally have a refining influence on the female mind, we'll see how it acts in this case!'’ It acted. I consulted the dictionary every two lines and paid as much attention to grammar as I knew how (which wasn't much). Don’t say you didn’t notice my effort! This week, however, I'm not a bit in a refined mood. 1 washed my hair this morning, and it’s drying now; I've been gardening in the window boxes, and my nails are full of mold; I'm wearing a kimono that was new when Teddy bears first came in, and if all this doesn’t show you how comfy and friendly I feel toward you, nothing will. I give it up, and U be blowed! (I'm saying this with a smile, of course, and most affection- ately!) Phew! but Paris is warm these days! Even the furniture is sweating varnish, and there’s a heat haze fogging the asphalt in the Champs Elysées. In fact, it’s so hot that the garsongs in the caffays bring ice without being asked to, and that—as all Americans who travel over here know—means that the heat limit has been reached. Life gets bearable about seven p. m., for then we toddle off to the Bois and—but, no; I don’t want to tell you whut we do, but simply what J do, so let's switch onto the first person singular (oh, very singular, believe me!) and stick to it. Where was I? Ah, yes! I toddle up to the Bois and have & good time. The Bois, as I suppose you know, is our Central Park, only more so, and it’s really rather convenient. It is full comicbooks.com