Judge, 1915-03-27 · page 9 of 24
Judge — March 27, 1915 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**"The Attraction"** (top): A suffragette meeting is disrupted by a cowboy's horse and dog. The sign promises the meeting will be "addressed by a Good Looking Suffragette"—the joke being that the crowd is attracted by physical appearance rather than the cause itself. The cowboy observes that human nature, even in rural areas, responds to such superficial appeals. This mocks both suffragettes and the public's shallow priorities. **"Florida Enchantment"** and the other brief humor pieces are romantic vignettes poking fun at courtship pretenses and social climbing. "Pride Attends Us Still" satirizes keeping up appearances—the couple repaints their old car so neighbors won't know their financial decline. "A Dashing Woman" jokes about a woman who constantly complains about everything. These pieces reflect early 20th-century satirical humor targeting romance, women's social ambitions, and the gap between public pretense and private reality.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
hi | An | MEETING Ht i) WOUL BE ST a ADDRESSED mi in es ~—S THE ATTRACTION Busy Bill—Maybe | don’t know politics, but | knows human nature in the cow country. That sign fetched ‘em! Florida Enchantment A Dashing Woman . winter in Florida, He and she both there. Inamotor boat. ¢¢P)OES she exercise her voice very much?" They have been strolling o’er the Gulf of Mexico, so to speak, “Why, she makes running comments on everything.”” she wondering if he is as foolish as he looks in spite of his money, . . and he wondering if she is as young as she says she Pride Attends Us Still & is. Both of them are busy with these, their thoughts Mrs. Crawford—How do you like your new apartment? of love. Mrs. Crabshaw—It isn’t as nice as the one we left, but the neigh- The sun, going down at the end of the February _ bors will never know that our car is merely the old one repainted. day, smiles gorgeously. **Pop-pop-pop!’* goes the gasoline. ‘*Pop-pop!"’ thinks the lady. He wonders if he will. Her face, stained pink by the sunset, is alluring. She has pretty arms. A train, creeping slowly across the Manatee on the long trestle bridge a mile up the river, weirdly whistles. It is borne to them over the expanse of water, and echoes and re-echoes from shore to shore. The sun goes majestically down like a huge, red- orange disk into the water on the west. Rose-tinted clouds look down from a bluish, dove-colored sky and blend to purple fleeting twilight. Then over all comes the mystic haze of dusk. Moss-draped trees on the shore fade into the night. Palms of tropical aspect are the last clearly discernible ob- jects on shore. Shadows—deep, strange shadows— gather; the air from land is fragrant of balmy pines and orange blossoms. The fast-falling dew is heavyasa mist. Only alone dog, barking in the dis- tance, mars the perfect peace, as they float in dark- ness to their landing, going in with the rising tide. He helps her from the motor boat. She stubs her toe and falls into his arms. He catches his breath, and she holds hers. ““Er—hm—hope you didn’t hurt you!"’ says he. “Not seriously,"? she answers, withdrawing from his arms. ‘You faker!"* thinks he. ** You He—Awfully sorry, but your party completely slipped my mind ! idiot!"" thinks she. Nothing doing.—Fred Ladd. She—Weren't you there? - comicbooks.com