Judge, 1916-06-24 · page 17 of 29
Judge — June 24, 1916 — page 17: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two satirical pieces mocking middle-class anxieties: **Top Cartoon:** Shows a woman (Mrs. Bean) arranging a surprise meeting between two people—likely implying she's playing matchmaker or orchestrating an awkward social situation. The caption "We didn't raise our boy to be a sojer, did we, ma?" references the popular WWI-era song "I Didn't Raise My Boy to Be a Soldier," repurposing it for domestic/social humor. **"At Parting" (poem by Lawton Mackall):** Humorously personifies laundry as beloved companions being sent away to an uncertain fate. It satirizes middle-class sentimentality by treating clothes with exaggerated emotional attachment—worrying they'll be damaged, lost, or "replaced" by inferior substitutes in the laundry process. The extended metaphor of saying goodbye to cherished items pokes fun at both laundry anxieties and overly sentimental attitudes toward possessions. Both pieces use humor to deflate pretension and middle-class concerns.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
bluest blood. His social standing must be the very highest, or he wouldn’t have been there. And he accepted my invitation to luncheon to-day. He is very swell-looking. I told him I wanted to talk with him about something quite important. I hear he is in the Vandervelt set, and I want to know more of those people.” A servant announced luncheon would be served in fifteen min- utes, and the butler appeared with a card. “Show the gentleman in, Jones,” said Mrs. Bean. “Of course I can’t introduce you, Miss Rowland, and you would meet him now if you retired. Can’t you just turn to the window a moment?” Miss Rowland turned to, the window. “How pleased I am to see you, Mr. Madison!” Mrs. Bean lit- erally seized her visitor’s hand. At the name Miss Rowland turned impulsively, and Mr. Madison looked at her in amazement. “Why,” said he, “you cet inly have planned a surprise for me, Mrs. Bean! Luncheon with Miss Rowland!” iss Rowland,” imed Mrs. Be: = “Your dear friend, I’m sure Covers were laid for three. n, “is my—' nd my cousin!” said Mr. Madison. From a Sinner’s Diary T! = Advent preacher says if you know a secret that’s one. You tell your best friend, that’s two. She tells her best and three know it Don’t scowl, gents, when they harp for new dresses. didn’t have lots of vacancies you'd never catch ‘em. Your lawyer makes you out as you'd like to be. The other's lawyer makes you out as you are. Love is like a cornshredder. We come out of it badly scarred cripple I'm like an old spider that’s had her web destroyed so many times she can’t spin any more. Henceforth I crowd others out and make their web my own. How to tell whether you're their friend: If, when you hear any- thing to their discredit you enjoy it, or whether you shrink, say- ing to your shamed self, “I know it, but I wish no one else did.” No Spring stirs in a broken heart. —Lynette Freemire. If they “We didn’t raise our boy to be a sojer, did we, ma?” AT PARTING By LAWTON MACKALL KNOW what a mother’s feelings are When she sends her loved ones out Into the world; For I am just sending out my nearest And, if not dearest, at least sufficiently dear, garments To the laundry. I shudder to think what may befall them In the awful mangle, in the seething maelstrom Of acids. What will be the fate of my fair white, entirely new dress shirt, That has never harbored in its Spartan bosom An unrighteous thought since the day it was worn? What of my cherished’negligees? Will they be true to their colors? Will the bars and stripes hold fast in their brave parade of patterns? Or will they run? And my socks, will they come home in a shameful, cobweb-footed condition, Or, worse still, gnarled with protruding darns? Some of these intimates, with whom I have associated In very personal contact, I may, alas! never behold again. Changelings, with unfamiliar names and cryptic marks And past bespotted with iron rust, May be sent in their place; trange lingerie, like the outcast collar Phat came in last week's bundle as a stowaway, And which I had no sooner elevated to a position of responsibility, Than the tattered cutthroat, with ingratitude sharper than a serpent’s tooth, Tried to guillotine me. Thinking on these things, my mind is heavy with forebodings, As I bid farewell to my devoted duds. And yet I shall not seek to hold them back; Because I know *Tis better to have them laundered and lost, Than never to have them laundered at all. comicbooks.com