Judge, 1915-07-17 · page 10 of 28
Judge — July 17, 1915 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several satirical pieces from Judge magazine: **"The Golfer's Saint"** is a humorous poem (in the style of traditional ballads) declaring Saint Andrew as the patron saint of golfers—a joke about golf's cultural prominence and how devotees treat the sport with religious fervor. **"A Warning"** is a curmudgeonly rant by "J. Fuller Gloom" refusing to listen to complainers during wartime, wanting instead to enjoy good weather and anticipate peace and prosperity. It's satirizing pessimistic whiners. **"The Revised Version"** mocks patent medicine advertising by rewriting a nursery rhyme where the King drinks Dr. Slaughter's bogus $5 "cure-all" tonic (also claimed as toothpaste and hair remover), leading to his death—the Queen notifies the coroner. It ridicules the absurd over-promising of fraudulent medicines. **"Something Brewing"** and **"Culture"** are brief joke exchanges about mischief-making and a boy's pretentious claim to study "culture" (deflated when a girl suggests he means farm agriculture). The cartoons illustrate these pieces with period ink drawings.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
: <a EN TH The Golfer’s Saint ‘ANY there be, as I opine,” Of those’ upon thi8 earthly shore Who bow in worship at the shrine Of .good Saint Stephen, stoned of yore, Or Saint Sebastian, smit- ten sore With arrows for no mortal taint; Yet, though their sad fate I deplore, Saint Andrew is my patron saint! Saint John, the Lamb, whom some assign A place on high, has mickle store Of prayer, so devotees divine; And some, deep-versed in churchly lore, Saint Benedict and Bride adore; Some to Saint Patrick make their plaint; Though snakes he slew, full many a score, 3aint Andrew is my patron saint! cy What though the four winds croon or whine, And days be fair or days be frore, Though lovers of the rod and line Saint Isaac Walton laud the more; What though petitioners outpour Their pleas to others, sans restraint, I still declare, aye, o'er and o'er, Saint Andrew is my patron saint! Golfers, who hear the cry of *‘Fore!"’ Resounding clear or falling faint, Of all the saints that men implore, Saint Andrew is our patron saint! Clinton Scot A Warning Te ALL WAILERS—I take this means of warning all victims of dyspepsia, rheumatism, inactive livers, blighted hopes and other loquacious diseases to retail their numerous and distressing symptoms wherever else they please, but to keep away from me. I desire to enjoy the beautiful weather we are having at present and to cogi- tate hopefully on the early ending of the war, the speedy return of pros- perity and the rapid approach of the millennium, and shall not spare any sufferer who comes around me to moan out his interminable woes, but will be so abrupt and sarcastic in my refusal to listen to him that he will be liable to have a relapse which may go hardwith him. J. Fuller Gloom. The Revised Version The King was in the parlor, Drinking the last of six bottles, for $5.00, and money refunded if it failed to perform acomplete cure, of old Dr. Slaughter’s justly celebrated Eradicator of all the Ills that Human Flesh is Heir To, and was also an excellent dentifrice, and likewise guaran- teed to remove superfluous hair from the most delicate fabric without the slightest pain, CROSSING THE TWILIGHT The Queen was at the telephone, Relating the facts to the coroner, and send- ing his majesty’s measurements to the un- dertaker and her own to the dressmaker. Something Brewing “*He’s as mischievous as the fellow with the cornet in the flat above me.’" “What's the trouble now?’’ “Oh, he’s always ready to start some- thing.’ . Culture “*My brother is going away to study cul- ture,’’ said the boastful boy. “*Agri-culture on a farm, I suppose,"’ re- marked the giggly girl. “ZONE”