Judge, 1916-01-29 · page 5 of 28
Judge — January 29, 1916 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**The Golf Cartoon ("Putter—There! Could you follow that, Caddie?"):** This depicts two golfers in a match, with one executing an impressive putt while his caddie watches. The joke plays on golf terminology and the caddie's reaction—it's a straightforward sports humor piece about demonstrating skill on the course, with no apparent political content. **The Articles:** "Medicinal Munitions" discusses cod-liver oil's military and medical uses during wartime, sarcastically noting that bullets and pills both "kill." "A Sign" makes light humor about a character named Hoggins lacking humor. "A Skin Game" (with accompanying illustration) appears to be another brief humorous anecdote. These are **general-interest humor pieces** rather than political satire—typical Judge magazine content from the WWI era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
rm, Putter—There! Could you follow that, Caddie? Medicinal Munitions HE PAPERS ¢ it that the cod-liver oil which is being consumed in such large quantitics in the trenches is not put to medicinal S The soldiers, stead of applying it internally, are making external applications in the form of the propulsive power behind the bullet There are gly- cerine and other things in cod-liver oil which, when metamorphosed, produce high explosives. Not that I ever cared particularly for cod-liver oil; but it ms a shame to take that soothing emollient, which has calmed so many thoraces, and put it into a gun, and shoot men with it. It must be bad enough to be hit by a bullet; but to have, as one falls, the consciousness that cod-liver oil is the is of one’s afiliction—is adding a highly unpalatable flavor to the tra’ tion. One must beware of catching the ge cod hereafter. His liver, in tie form of some “ite” or other, may turn again and rend one. Codfish per se would not make such bad ammunition. I would vastly prefer to face a forty-two-centimetre codfish-ball, for instance, than a shell of the same dimen- sions. It is the use of medicine for purposes of slaughter to which I object. Sans bullets, War will lose the last semblance of its doubtful glory. Imagine— “T sha’n’t forget the day When on the field I lay With a quinine pill where my belt-plate should ha’ been.” Or, “In his ear was the shrick of the aspirin tablet hastening on its errand of death.” Or, “Blast the paregoric! There's nothing glorious about War under such conditions. io ahead!" Caddie—Yep—wid th’ naked eye. “Do you think that Boggins has any sense of humor?” “Why not? He told me yesterday that he enjoyed being alone with himself.” A Sign ASKIN GAME comicbooks.com