Judge, 1915-10-30 · page 8 of 28
Judge — October 30, 1915 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Judge* magazine contains satirical commentary on early 20th-century American social customs and gender dynamics. **"Ballades of a Gay Week-ender"** celebrates Harriet Stead as an exceptional hostess because she **doesn't allow guests to tip servants**—a sharp critique of the era's expectation that visitors financially supplement staff wages. The satire mocks how most hosts tolerate this exploitative practice, making Stead's prohibition genuinely remarkable. **"Egg View Notes"** offers rural small-town gossip presented as humorous local color, depicting quirky rural characters and minor incidents (a woman chasing a squirrel, a grocer using a broken register). **"Man May Propound but Woman Confounds"** uses a dialogue between Bob and Nan to satirize gender inequality: when Nan becomes a newspaper associate editor, Bob assumes she works from financial necessity rather than professional ambition—yet he himself works without justification being questioned. The humor exposes the double standard. **"Quite True"** presents a brief marital joke about society's hollowness, suggesting wives have the final word in domestic judgment. The cartoons support these themes through visual commentary on class and social pretension.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Ballades of a Gay Week-ender Popular Hostesses: Harriet Stead HEN Monday morn arrives, I groan At many a house I've visited; ‘The servants come, with smiles of stone, Ere you have tumbled out of bed. Their hands are obviously spread, And you a golden coin must slip. But in'the home of Harriet Stead You never are allowed to tip. O think of it! The days have flown, And you've been valeted by Fred, And-met by Meadows; lightly blows From one content to others; fed By Hawkins; served by Ethelred; Nursed, if perchance you've caught the gripe. Yet in the end, though you have plead, You never are allowed to tip! No wonder that her place has grown To be so much desired! For if you're hard up, Phipps wil loan A fellow anything. I dread The houses where you're made to shed Your dollars for companionship With servants that you loathe. Will never, never let you tip. Miss Stead L’Envoi Delightful one! When you have fled Upon your last and solemn trip, This will be graved above your head “She never, never let you tip!”—Paul Norman. Going Some Pessimist—Is he prosperous? Optimist—Is he? Why, he owes twice what he owns. Egg View Notes ULEY CANNON walked three miles and a half around a tree Monday trying to keep track of a Thanks- giving squirrel. Ambrose Crosslots says: “Snow-balls an’ scandals. Snow-balls git | smaller with handlin Bill Waite, our grocer, donc a very large practice business on a second-hand cash regis- ter yesterday. The Thanksgivingmasquerade dance in Spring Ledge Tuesday night was pronounced a wonderful success by Cylindra Berger, who got two dances with Corny Paine before he found out who she was. A stranger selling carpet sweepers drove through Egg View Friday noon. Only after he had split five chunks of wood, Wednesday morning, was Shern Spoor able to get the head chopped off of a very restless chicken. Ote Gimber’s horse brought things to a standstill in Morg Quidd’s blacksmith shop, Friday afternoon, when he suddenly decided to roll while he was getting his hoofs looked after. Nehemiah Knobrick, who got into an awful fight in Pollywog Saturday night, will postpone a tedious job of sewing until he hears for sure that two-button coats no longer continue to be the latest style. Erny Neff, our barber, has returned home Officer—Say, you gotta cut that out or accompany me. Musician—Mit pleasure, ossifer. Und vat are you going to sing ? “Don’t you worry, mum! them as you are.” Nora, that when you leave you'll not repeat any ecrets you may have overheard.” I'm just as much ashamed of in time for Thanksgiving, from a two- week's visit in Spring Ledge, where he found out how to do several new and profitable things to the face and hair. Having heard that a moving picture show troop is in Pollywog to stage a play, Witt Larcom left for there in a big hurry, “taking along several funny and exceedingly clever faces he can make on a minute's notice. —Leslie Van Exery. Man May Propound but Woman Confounds Bob—I hear that you have a new job. Nan—Yes, I have. Bob—What is it? Nan—Associate editor on the Star. Bob—Long hours? Nan—Not bad at all, from 10 to 5. Bob—Holiday on Saturday? Nan—The usual half day. Bob—Is it necessary for you to work? Nan—Just as necessary as it is for you. Say, Nan, how much do you get for Bob—Whew! that’s nice. Nan—And how much do you get, Bob? Bob—Well, I like your nerve! —Ethel R. Peyser. Quite True Wife—Mrs. Brooks says society is hollow —that there isn’t anything in it. Husband—Well, there isn’t anything in i ys, my dear, if you don't put something in it. Why She Was Sad The Groom—Why so sad, sweetheart? The Bride—I was just thinking how miser- able I'd be, Jack, if I had never met you. “W We've had the car a week. He understates the truth. Too Inclusive FURNISH all but the garage,” -xplains the genial youth. I find Oh, skill inventive, unsurpassed On this terrestrial ball! My engine two score horses is ‘And stalls enough for all! Albert E. Hoyt