Judge, 1916-02-19 · page 9 of 28
Judge — February 19, 1916 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes marital tension and male pride through a domestic comedy. Mrs. Whittler repeatedly compares her husband unfavorably to their neighbor Jack Dimpleton, praising Dimpleton's reliability while her husband fails at basic tasks (fixing a door lock). Frustrated by twenty years of this comparison, Mr. Whittler declares he'll prove himself superior by visiting the Dimpleton home that evening. The irony—the satire's point—becomes clear when they arrive: the Dimpleton's doorbell is broken, undermining Mrs. Whittler's complaint that her husband didn't ring it properly. Mr. Whittler's vindication appears to be "just blind luck" rather than actual superiority. The bottom cartoon about the messenger boy provides light comedic relief unrelated to the main story. The page satirizes how couples weaponize comparisons and how small domestic disputes escalate through pride and stubbornness.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
RS. WHITTLER had lived with her manner for nearly twenty years. During this period of time they had been ‘on a practically continuous basis of friendship with the Dimpletons, who lived just far enough away to make such a friendship a practical affair. There are always moments when This was one the worm turns. them. Mrs. Whittler had said, after having reminded her husband that he had not fixed the lock on the rear door (as he had promised to do four days previously): “Imagine Jack Dimpleton keeping Sallie waiting like that!” Whittler glared. An outsider, unaware of the long history of his wrongs in this particular direction, would have failed to understand his sudden outburst “Look here!” he exclaimed, stand that any more.” “Stand what?” said Mrs. Whittler, just as if she didn’t know what he meant. “For twenty years you have been comparing me with Jack Dimpleton. Every time I've failed to meet your distorted demands you've been saying that same thing—holding him up as a model It’s too much. You ought to have married him.” “As if [hadn't heard that before! Well, Jack Dimpleton would have kept h ii He would have fixed that lock——"" “Stor angerous look in Whittler’s eyes. “We're going over there to-night, aren’t we?”” “Well, we'll see. I propose to find out just how much better he isthan I, We'll settle this thing once and for all.”” “Pooh!” Mrs. Whittler wasn’t at all alarmed. Hadn't he said that same thing upon numerous occasions, and had anything ever come of it? She merely laughed—and they parted for the time being. They arrived at the Dimpleton’s at seven fifteen. It was a dinner engagement. Whittler pressed the door bell. “Just on time,” he said, looking at his watch. been for me——” “that's enough. I'm not going to “Tf it hadn't TRYING TO APPEAR UNCONCERNED JUST BEFORE THE MASTER OF CEREMONIES CALLS ON YOU TO SPEAK JUST BLIND LUCK husband in a practically continuous ry CUBETERTDN I didn’t hear that bell ring,” said Mrs. Whituer. ‘You al s do hear it ring. Don’t I know that? “Well, L rang it all right.” said Whittler. “I’m not going to insult people by making them think the house is on fire.”” Mrs. Whittler pressed the button. She had no such sentiments— being a woman in easy mental circumstances. “There!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t hear anything, did you? That bell is out of order.” She began knocking. Hurried steps inside; the door thrown open. Mrs. Dimpleton in front. Her husband in rear. Maid coming forward in dista “My dears! I was watching for you. Hope you have waiting. No, the bell doesn’t ring. Of course——” TODD t been Maiden (sentimentally)—Oh, you sweet messengers of love! I shall press you to my heart ! Messenger boy—Nix on that leap-year stuff, old goil! I'm pressed for time! comicbooks.com