Judge, 1916-05-27 · page 11 of 28
Judge — May 27, 1916 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two separate satirical pieces from *Judge* magazine: **Top Cartoon**: A man inherits wealth but becomes bored because paying his debts eliminates his purpose. The joke mocks idle rich people—their suffering stems from *lack* of problems, not genuine hardship. **"The Tortured Lover" Story**: A dandy named Vere de Vere Stackhouse obsesses over fashion and appearance while on a date. His dramatic suffering—complaining he "cannot bear it"—is revealed as trivial: his tight shoe causes him discomfort. The satire targets affected, vain men who perform exaggerated emotional anguish over minor physical discomforts while their patient female companion listens sympathetically about "love." **Bottom Cartoon**: A clerk misunderstands a customer asking for "the life of Ben Jonson" (a biography of the famous playwright) as a request to kill someone, calling police. The joke plays on homophone confusion and the clerk's panic. Both pieces mock male vanity, pretension, and overblown emotional displays—typical *Judge* targets of the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ecw er ear ae Harriet—Who's the sad-looking gentleman over there? _Harry—That 's Willie Nichols, bored to death. Inherited a barrel of money an’ paid all his debts. Now he hasn't a thing to occupy his mind. THE TORTURED LOVER STACKHOUL wore a wrist-watch and “Hurry, sweetheart, hurr: he begged when the waiter had tucked his handkerchief inside his coat sleeve. His socks were — brought his change and thanked him for his tip. “If you only knew scented with sachet and he was on speaking terms with a highly | what every moment means to me!”’ With a sigh of regret she got cultured manicurist who labored ‘up, slipped into her rich robe, and they hurried to the taxi that was daily for the purpose of enhancing waiting for them. Then, when they were seated safely where no one and preserving his beauty. might sce, Vere de Vere Stackhouse unbuttoned his left shoe and Furthermore, he wore evening — slipped it half off, thus relieving his tortured toes. dress always when he dined, and his “Now,” he said, after he had indulged in a deep and soulful sigh, pajamas were embroidered with “let's talk some more about love.” —S. E. Kiser. what he described as “taste and discretion.” To be ct, he was a swell dresser. The Herculaneum Room was almost deserted. Those who had dined early had gone to the theaters or the dancing clubs. It was at that time of the evening when a dozen waiters contend for the honor of serving oni The orchestra in a half-hearted manner was playing a selection from Carmen, and Vere de Vere Stackhouse had just inhaled a long draught from his ninth cigarette. “Irma,” he said in tones that were fraught with agony, “I can it no longer.” “Try to bear up for just a little while,” replied the beautiful girl who sat across the table from him. ‘You must, Vere de Vere, for my sake. “But you do not know how I suffer.” “Yes Ido. [have suffered often as you are suffering. Ah, you see how much more patiently woman is able to withstand agony. I hive suffered as youare suffering, and no one has been permitted to New clerk—Come in quick! There's a murderer inside! know. Try to be brave until I have finished my cheese. Cop What caakes you think he 's « tarderes 2 ; With a supreme effort he suppressed a groan. New clerk—He came in and said, “I want the life of Ben Jonson.” comicbooks.com