Judge, 1915-03-13 · page 14 of 24
Judge — March 13, 1915 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Judge* magazine contains several distinct pieces of social commentary: **"The Music of the Shamrock"** is a nostalgic poem by Kate Masterson lamenting the fading of traditional Irish culture and music—referencing iconic Irish symbols (harps, Killarney, traditional dances) now seemingly "gone" or commercialized ("tagged by a city florist"). **"The Milliner" cartoon** satirizes fashion pretension: a woman displays an ordinary hat, claiming it's an "exclusive design," while her male companion's knowing glance suggests the hat is actually mass-produced or copied. **"The Sixty-Year-Old Boys"** mocks the era's obsession with appearing youthful. It contrasts old ideals (elderly men as gray, stooped, infirm) with modern vanity culture where sixty-year-old men dress fashionably, groom meticulously, and affect youthful behavior—suggesting this trend is here to stay despite being somewhat ridiculous. **"One Detail"** is a brief marriage joke about romantic affection declining with time. The remaining items are minor humor pieces about customer service and wordplay.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Music of the Shamrock HE SHAMROCK green—it grew, maybe, Beside the Shannon springing, Or blossomed by the River Lee, Where Shandon's bells are oy ringing ; QL axD) That grand, melodic, throb- Aes bing peal Through Irish dell and forest, Imprinted by no tyrant heel, Tagged by a city florist. And how the music fills the air, Those days of Kerry danc- ing! When fiddles’ croon and pipers’ flare Set colleens’ feet a-glancing! Kathleen Mavourneen's serenade— Sad that true hearts must sever— The hunter's horn—the gray mists fade— Good-by—perhaps forever! er aS} The harp that once—so silent now! Oh, strike a gayer measure— The Pretty Girl that milked the cow, Or Peggy's low-backed leisure; The spot where angels stop to rest, Beyond the stone of Blarney— White wings enfolded on each breast— Killarney, oh, Killarney! 'Tis gone! The shamrock'’s voice is still! Its leaves, so soft and glowing, Shine out across the window Old Ireland's color showing, With dew’s soft flash and sun's gay gleam, A happy message bringing; And for a moment in my dream I thought I heard it singing! —Kate Masterson. AND THE MILLINER SAID HER HAT WAS AN EXCLUSIVE DESIGN! One Detail He—You can't truthfully say I haven't supported you in the style to which you were accustomed. She—Yes, Ican. You never hold me on your lap any more. OUR When we are unexpectedly roped in to perform SENSATIONS The Sixty-Year-Old Boys 'T ONCE was the rule, in your youthtime and mine, That the fifty-year man was far gone in decline, That he wore bushy whiskers and stooped as he walked, And quavered a bit in his voice as he talked. But, oh, what a change has come over man- kind! The fifty-year youngster of now isn't blind Or halt or decrepit or whiskered—nay, nay! The sixty-year ‘* ’ is the rule of to-day! There may be some snow at his temples, ‘tis truth; But folks say, ‘‘Some people grow gray in their youth."” He's carefully groomed, and he’s straight as a rod; He laughs like a child, and he smiles like a He's natty and nobby and brisk as a boy— To meet him, to be in his presence, is joy. Instead of December, he’s April or May— ‘The sixty-year youngster is with us to stay. Strickland Gillitan, Easily Fixed “That glass of soda I got here yesterday wasn't sweet enough.’’ “Well, we aim to make goods right. Have a lump of sugar on the house.”” A Bird's-eye View Saplee—What is this Blue Bird we hear so much about? Snapleigh—The Dove of Peace. comichooks. a