Judge, 1914-12-12 · page 14 of 24
Judge — December 12, 1914 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This satirical piece contrasts small-town American values ("Podunk") with urban sophistication. The illustration shows a fashionable woman lounging in an oversized chair decorated with skull-and-crossbones symbols, accompanied by a cherub holding a rifle—imagery suggesting danger and decadence. The poem, attributed to John H. Coxe, defends small-town simplicity against urban pretension. The narrator, called "the boob," celebrates Podunk's honest virtues: people know their neighbors, credit is trusted, life moves at a natural pace, and honest labor suffices. He satirizes "Johnny Wise"—the sophisticated urbanite who thinks he's found enlightenment ("the way of lights") but is actually the real fool. The satire targets turn-of-the-century American anxieties about urbanization: the corruption of city life, loss of community, and the false superiority of cosmopolitan attitudes. The "boob" ironically proves wiser than those who dismiss rural values.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
\ LI IF The Boob MAY be I'm a first aid Wi As he blew into Podunk town from doir “Tsay it may be I'm a boob—whatever that may b I'm glad I'm back in Podunk, for it su In tall-grass Podunk, if you plez very now and then One meets a on the street and calls him Dave or Ben- In Podunk, wh ‘s credit’s good at Simpson's dry-goods store, And where one sometimes even knows the door— In Podunk, where the citizens ¢ To something else besides the ch In Podunk, where a Main Str That ninety-seven-story bloc In Podunk, wh t ie Pettingill, Gothamville. 4 good t se, wh folks that live next dollar bills and dimes: not so blooming high swing no sign va Hudson And tots don’t h In Podunk, wh And folks need not to to gambol e verandas wide outside the flat to turn around In Podunk, where front yards are not exti And grass grows just as green as in the valley of the Nile . but still in style, In Podunk, where it’ © for one to get around, Without his riding in the In Podunk, w Nor has to call a er In Podunk, where Nor chi like mad to work Podunk, the wights ! three nights ! In Podunk, whe tread, Bear out one’s bier, The Whang w dead. ror shooting ryground— girl his seat, the stre a Gould to own his sha MT Hacken ated, bush-le chap stands up to sing: cop J not b ch morn from all—b ne ne ack— where yokels Eat square meals and quit at that—and go to bed o° when Brother Eiks, and measured note at least that one is It may be I'm the boob and that my head sug And yet it seems to me as if the grand exalted boob Is Johnny Wise, who walks the way of lights And thinks he has a corner on that joy-of-livi