Judge, 1914-09-05 · page 9 of 24
Judge — September 5, 1914 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes early 20th-century courtship customs and the "bachelor girl" phenomenon. The top cartoon mocks prudish Victorian attitudes: two observers criticize couples "spooning" (kissing/cuddling) publicly at Coney Island, unaware that the tent enclosures exist *precisely* to give young people private moments—making their criticism ironic. The accompanying text is a first-person narrative by a witty, unmarried woman writer describing her social life. She humorously discusses dating multiple male relatives (kept "proper" through distant relation), her failed marriage to an idle rich man who wouldn't work, and now supporting herself by writing for newspapers—a relatively unconventional life for a woman of that era. The lower illustration shows her dining alone at a restaurant, appearing content. The satire targets both prudish social hypocrisy about romance and celebrates the emerging "New Woman"—economically independent, romantically autonomous, and unashamed of her unconventional choices. The piece gently mocks both conservative morality and the performative nature of early-1900s social respectability.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ON THE CONEY ISLAND BOAT “«T think it's shocking the way these folks sit around and spoon publicly." “« Perhaps, m’ dear, it’s the only opportunity they have to be alone."* of trees and grass and Apaches and little old ladies who dig tuppences out of you for the chairs, and there are two fine race tracks and half a dozen awfully X-pensive restaurants with tzi- ganes and imposing head waiters, and there are lakes and a waterfall and a sort of Bronx Zoo—only less 8o— thrown in, and—well, that’s about all. No, half amo’! There's a pidgeon- shooting place and a polo ground, and if you think I've forgotten anything else, look it up - in Badaeker and complain to the management. My favoristest restaurant is the Longchamps Hermitage. And judging from the accents that are wafted about on the softly perfumed summer breeze (this is poesy), Young America likes it, too! Ah, but it’s a cute place! There are little red and white striped tents all over the gar- den. Some can hold three, but they’re mostly built for two! I'm only familiar with the built-for-two ones! You see, I’m a bachelor girl with a very large circle of boy pals who are so nearly related to me as to make things quite proper, but yet who are distantly relationed enough to make things entertain- ing. This may not be grammar, but it states the case. When I say I'm a bachelor girl, I'm not quite honest. I’ve been married. I remained so exactly a year and a quarter; then I found I couldn't afford it any longer, so I divorced him and let somebody else have a chance to show their unselfishness. ‘*He was one of the Idle Rich, but he lost the rich and kept the idle." This is what they will put on his tombstone. He was rather a dear, taking him all round, and it paid to dress him, because he really did know how to wear clothes—the English kind, you know, that always look as if the cutter is a miser— but, as I remarked before, 1 couldn’t afford to pay, so I left him to start life anew, and now I write for the papers when- ever I can sandbag an editor into taking me. It isn’t so much the desire to spread my innermost soul on paper that torments me, but it’s a joy for me to hear good people say, ‘‘And do you really make it all up out of your own head?"’ If you've never had that said to you, you haven’t lived, that’s all! Where was I, again? How I do stray, don’t I? Ah, yes, I was in the little striped tent in the Bois. I eat expensive food (none uf my people were ever fat, so I don’t “HOW COMPY AND PRIENDLY | PEEL!” . comicbooks.com