Judge, 1916-07-22 · page 15 of 28
Judge — July 22, 1916 — page 15: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three satirical pieces typical of early 20th-century American humor: **"Ma's Ginger Cookies"** (poem by C.L. Edson): A soldier returning from the Philippine-American War reflects on exotic Eastern experiences—"Geisha gals," looted treasures—yet ultimately values home and his mother's gingersnaps. The satire gently mocks both imperial adventure (he lost his loot gambling) and sentimental patriotism. **"Fruitt Syrup, the Great Detective"** (by Fred Ladd): Mocks detective fiction and pseudoscientific investigation by showing absurdly padded expense accounts for ridiculous services ("Non-Existent Chemicals," "General Intelligence") totaling over $55,000. The joke: magazines rely on these fraudulent "scientific detectives" for content. **"Force of Habit"** and **"Floral Notes"**: Brief satirical pieces on modern life—a dentist obsessed with car mechanics, and humorous observations about urban gardening failures. The cartoons accompanying these pieces use simple line-drawing style typical of the era's magazine illustration.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
MAS GINGER COOKIES Them home-made ginger cookies, yum! T smelt ‘em in my homesick dreams, In rice fields where the bullets hum, ‘And jungles where the bolo gleams: O'er fifteen thousand miles of foam, Them ginger cookies called me home! I've roamed among the Isles of Spice, And sniffed them oriental smells; The slant-eyed Geisha gals is nice— And Luzon’s lusty, brown-skinned belles; But, ma, my heart was ever true To Yankee gingersnaps and you! I hoped, when I came home, to bring Rich presents from the mystic East; And_loot enough to crown a king— make us rich for life, at least I meant to bring you clothes galore, And never let you work no more. T had two bolts of Chinese silk, Ten rubies from a ruined shrine, And ivories as white as milk— A month ago that junk was mine. In coming home—we—shot some craps. Say, ma, yum, yum; them gingersnaps!—C. L. Edson. Really Wonderful FPRUITT SYRUP, the Great Detective, was figuring up his expense account on an invisible typewriter: Dictagraph service Dictaphone . Dictatone Eleemosenary Etherizations Non-Existent Chemicals Rare Bunkum 1135.00 Rarefield Piffle . cones 22.00 General Intelligence a § £ SG a +50 Total . 6 me 2 $55663.00 “Hum, H-m. We Scientific Detecti come high, but what would the Magazines do without us?”—Fred Ladd. 700.00 600.00 755.00 . 250.00 . §2200.50 Force of Habit “T thought Dr. Smartwork was your dentist.” “So he was, but not now. Since he has taken to driv- ing his car he has become so enamored of its construction and has it so much on his mind that he goes at your mouth as if he were repairing another automobile.” FLORAL NOTES FROM UPPER BROADWAY Mr. A, Flatdweller Writes Concerning His Garden WE FEEL sure that the golden asters are going to be a success, because dandelions have always done so well around here. There are a number of things coming up that we did not plant but we have decided not to pull them for fear that we did. The last tenants took one of the electric light fixtures with them but they overlooked a dahlia bulb in the back yard. We had to put in nasturtiums to stop people asking us why we didn’t have any. They were repairing the water main yesterday and our garden didn’t get a drop of water. A nursery man told me that a good deal-of grafting is being done in his business, and I believe him. When someone told Arabella that wildflowers have pistils she said she should think that would be dangerous The morning glories do not open promptly every morning so we are going to try to get some four-o’clocks with an alarm attachment. A man never knows what optimism really is until he buys something from a seed merchant. Wife says that the crimson rambler is beautiful but so many people have them. You think your garden is small until you begin to count up the things you have brought home for it. Somebody left the electric light burning on the back porch and the next morning our sunflower was utterly exhausted. A man no more than gets through shaking hands with the furnace than he has to begin massaging the flower-beds. We were going to build a trellis for the sweet peas but have decided to wait and sce if they are. —Douglas Malloch. It is probable that the oldest inhabitant lives so long be- cause there is so little breadth and depth to his living. Bess—What did Bob give for his car? Jock—Practically nothing. His notes, with my endorsement! comicbooks.com