Judge, 1916-05-27 · page 7 of 28
Judge — May 27, 1916 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes rural Arkansas life through dialect humor and gentle mockery. The main cartoon shows hogs rooting near a baseball field, captioned as "born rooters"—a pun on baseball terminology applied to actual pig behavior. The surrounding rustic anecdotes mock backwoods characters: Lab Juckett considering divorce after his wife shoots off his ear; Mr. Hack Peddicord describing legislators alternately removing invasive Johnson-grass and local marijuana ("green grass") from competing counties—satirizing rural legislative absurdity and implied drug cultivation. Additional brief jokes mock urban social pretension: Mrs. Fashun's husband earning barely enough for her wardrobe, and a newlywed couple whose "hotel comforts" suggest they can't afford actual housing. The romantic poem "Lydia at the Urn" provides literary counterpoint, romanticizing rural domestic life. Overall, the page presents condescending humor targeting rural Arkansans as simultaneously simple, corrupt, and quaint.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE GENTLEMAN FARMER'S SERIES The hog ranges are placed near a baseball field. Good hogs are born rooters A Possible Reason 6 H REPORT is sorter ambling T around that Lab Juckett is figger- ing on getting a divorce from his wife,” stated Mr. Gap Johnson, of Rumpus Ridge, Ark. “Some folks think mebby it’s on account of the fact that she took a shot at him a couple of weeks ago for something or nuther, I didn’t learn what, and tore off most of his left ear. But it may be for some entirely different reason, for all I know. It takes all kinds of people to make up a world, and ‘pears like there are fully as many different excuses for divorce.” Lydia at the Urn ITH toss and floss of wild-plum spray, ‘The May goes by my door; I love to take the upland way When she leads on before. I love to take the wildwood track Till fires of sunset burn, And then I love to wander back To Lydia at the urn! rs of May all have a lure; Their attars round me float; And there are song-notes sweet and pure Flung from the thrush’s throat. I dote upon the forest bower Deep set ‘mid flower and fern, But fairer far than fem or flower Is Lydia at the urn! pours for me the fragrant tea m China or Ceylon; She smiles—ah, winsome sight to see!— And weariness is gone. Dear are the vasts of cloudless skies, he hill-paths—yet I learn ‘The crown of life’s contentment lies With Lydia at the urn!—Clinton Scollard. Their Harmless Occupation “Yape!” said Mr. Hack Peddicord, of Possum Trot, Ark he legislature was kept right busy, this last session. They put in about half of their time legislatin’ the Johnson-grass out of Green county, and the other half legislatin’ the green grass out of Johnson county.” A Small Showing Maude—See Mrs. Fashun in the stage box? The every cent her husband earns goes on her back. Jack—Poor chap! I thought he was doing well, but if he doesn’t earn any more than that—! Secrets “Have you any secrets in your past?” she aske None to speak of,” he replied. Strictly Up to Date “How do you like your new home?” “Fine! We have all the comforts of a comicbooks.com