Judge, 1915-05-15 · page 6 of 24
Judge — May 15, 1915 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story satirizes early 20th-century marital jealousy and deception. Mr. and Mrs. Wopley, separated for the summer, engage in a escalating war of lies—each fabricating tales of romantic attention to provoke the other's jealousy. Mrs. Wopley invents suitors and social engagements; her husband responds with invented female companions. The satire works on two levels: it mocks both the couple's transparent dishonesty (they immediately see through each other's fabrications) and the era's assumptions about marriage and gender—that a woman with "piles of money" would attract male attention, that jealousy proves devotion. The resolution is sentimental rather than satirical: both rush back to reconcile, neither fooled but both reassured of being wanted. The "Modern Farming" cartoon below offers unrelated agricultural humor about industrialization—a farmer conflating farm equipment with livestock.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Sighing, Mrs. Wopley sealed and stamped this colossal fabrication. “*I don’t approve of lying, but one has to fight these man devils with their own kind of fire."* Wopley read of his wife’s gayety with feelings that ranged from mild disapproval to jealous fury. Then he sat down and wrote a letter which, apparently by accident, dis. closed that he was ‘*going some’’ himself. This the home. sick Mrs. Wopley received, cried over and answered with seven pages about the dark-haired man, yachting parties and moonlight motor rides. And Wopley replied in kind. “*By heaven!" swore hubby, when he had perused her third effort at fiction, ‘‘I'll take a look into those dark eyes myself!'’ Striding to the closet, he dragged out a suitcase and began to pack. a All the way back to the city Thursday evening Mrs. Wopley kept referring to her husband's last letter. “Took Tessie Arleigh and her mother to lunch,’’ she read. ‘*Accompanied Tessie and the Crassons to the Roof Garden last night." And in conclusion: “Have in- vited Tessie, the Crassons and some ; others up to Mr. Goldrox—Marie, bas young Dauber mentioned bis income? the apartment Marie—No, dad; he seems more anxious about yours. next Thursday night to eata mockery of a name!—Mrs. Wopley was inditing an epistle to her ‘rabbit’ and tango spouse. awhile. Wish you “I'll make the gentleman sorry he didn’t keep me under his could be here.”* eye,’’ she vowed, chewing her penholder. “Thanks! I “Dearest hubby—I'm having the time of my sweet young life. Will!’"_ grimly mut- There are more and nicer men here than I ever saw at asummer tered Mrs. Wopley, resort. They certainly are giving me the grand rush. You see, crushing the letter they think I am a widow, with piles and piles of money. Isn't back into her bag. it too funny? One, the handsomest fellow, with great dark eyes «And I'll invite the and a voice that would enchant a stone woman, is my devoted whole bunch to clear slave. I thought he was going to get sentimental last night, but Paice ; ; out of my house. some one butted in just at the psychological moment. He gives . pipe the most delightful little suppers. “I could write bushels more, Teste ais teh but I’m too tired. I’m not used to so much dissipation. Ho; ae a“ i . . . it isn't very hot in the city. Don't work too hard. Lovingly, white creature, I “"PoPr if T wasn’t so short 0! money, I'd blow ye ot “Byrd."" could choke her!"* It was eleven o'clock when Mrs. Wopley reached the door of her domicile, and the party should have been at its height. But there was no sound of mirth. Softly opening the door, she saw her lord asleep in his chair. “*Well,'’ she said crisply, ‘‘how’s the party?’’ Wopley roused up. ‘‘What party? Oh! We heard you coming and postponed it.’’ Then she saw the suitcase on the floor and upon the table her most recent letter and a time table. She understood. “*You were coming to bring me home?'’ “Oh, no! Just a business trip,’’ he explained. ‘*You came back—to me?"’ “‘No. I needed a rest from the dissipation."" “You can’t fool me!"’ they cried simultaneously, and yet Wopley held out his arms. joan ~ UP TO FATHER Modern Farming **How many head o’ livestock you got on the place?”’ “*Livestock?’’ echoed the somewhat puzzled farmer. “What d’ ye mean by livestock? I got four steam tractors and seven automobiles."” IF A PIANO LOOKED AS IT SOMETIMES SOUNDS comichooks.