Judge, 1914-12-05 · page 24 of 36
Judge — December 5, 1914 — page 24: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several humorous vignettes satirizing early 1900s American middle-class life: **"The Counters"**: Mocks gender differences in Christmas anticipation. While mother and sister eagerly await shopping season, father grimly calculates finances—the "pays" (paychecks)—knowing he'll foot the bill. **"Never Break"**: A joke about indestructible toys that make noise, implying parents secretly prefer toys that break. **"In California"**: A mild flirtation joke about a sunburned man blaming his date for suggesting he looked good in a bathing suit. **"The Reward of Virtue"**: The main satire. A woman carefully gives thoughtful Christmas gifts, but by spring, fashion changes render gifts useless, siblings lose interest in theirs, and—the "cruelest joke"—she falls in love with a man who doesn't smoke (making her tobacco pouch gift pointless). It satirizes how women's careful domestic labor and gift-giving efforts prove futile against fickleness and fate.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Fond mother—Oh! George, dear, you've lost a tooth! George—No | haven't, mother; it’s in my pocket. The Counters HEN Christmas shopping time is due And windows gleam with bright displays, Dear mother mine and Sister Sue Delight to sit and count the days. But ere the shopping season starts, Fond father, in the gaslight’s rays, With fountain pen and paper charts, Sits silently and counts the pays. —Chartes A. Leedy. Never Break Greene—Are there any really indestructible toys? Gray one that I know of, except those that make an infernal noise. Surprising “Was your Christmas present in the nature of a surprise?"’ “IT should say so. It was just what I wanted."’ IN CALIFORNIA She—I'm not to blame for your sunburn. He—You are. You said | looked well in a bathing suit. The Reward of Virtue ES: She shopped for Christmas early, bought mamma some silken stuff, And the latest book for father, and for Sister Jane a muff, And a sweater for the brother that was fond of fishing camps, And an album for the brother that collected postage stamps; And she purchased in the summer and embroidered in the fall A tobacco pouch to give the one she loved the best of all. But: The 3 proclaimed in springtide fickle Fashion’s latest number By December, sad to state, were absolutely hors de combat; And the book is being published on the small installment plan In the columns of the evening sheet that father’s wont to scan; And the muff turned out to be a muff that simply wouldn’t go With the stole that sister brought from Montreal not long ago; 4 And the girl big brother’s written to since in July he met her Has improved the shining hours since then by knitting hima sweater; . And the yearning for the postage stamp that little brother cherished, Since he’s grown some six months older, is a yearning that has perished. But the most unkindest cut of all and Fate’s most cruel joke Is the fact the one she now loves best is one that doesn’t smoke! —Anne W. Young. A FAT CHANCE