Judge, 1916-09-23 · page 9 of 32
Judge — September 23, 1916 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**Top Section: The Heart Illustrations** The three heart images illustrate a satirical article about an Austrian Professor Molisch's claim that raw meat glows faintly due to microbes, allowing one to read by sausage-light. The "Good Heart," "Broken Heart," and "Mended Heart" serve as decorative headers, but the satire mocks the impracticality of using sausage illumination—the author humorously questions whether it could reveal small cooking recipes, locate lost keys, or harmonize with living room décor. The joke targets both the professor's dubious discovery and contemporary newspaper readers who enjoy doom-saying letters about societal decline. **Bottom Section: Short Humorous Pieces** Two brief comedic dialogues follow: "Why He Doubted" presents a boyfriend doubting his girlfriend's interest when she seems indifferent to his kisses, and "A Relapse" features a doctor whose patient "forgot" to pay his bill, suggesting the cure was ineffective. **Right Column: Sentimental Poetry** A romantic poem about moonlit wandering provides tonal contrast to the page's humor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A GOOD HEART An Illuminating Discovery A AUSTRIAN professor, Molisch by name, has informed a palpitat- ing public that it is possible to read a newspaper by the light of a raw beef or pork sau- sage. The professor states that all meat con- tains a microbe which gives off light; and that when the meat is minced up in sausages, the light is much stronger than that which emanates from a sirloin steak or a cluster of pork chops. This is important if true; but before anybody re- moves the gas, electricity and kerosene lamps from his home and depends entirely on sau- sage-light for illumination, he should make sure that the sausage will func- tion satisfactorily as a light-producer. The light from a bologna sausage, or from a bevy of frankfurters, may be suf- ficiently potent to reveal the average newspaper type; but will it also suffice to reveal the small type in which the cooking recipes and the list of people who attend a reception is printed? If hot, sausage light will not be acceptable from a feminine viewpoint. Will it dis- close the small but important differences A BROKEN HEART MENDED between the bottle of cough-medicine and the bottle of hair-tonic on the top shelf of the medicine-closet? Will it en- able the user to locate his latch-key when he drops it in the front hall while in a hurry to keep an urgent engagement? Will a festoon of sausages draped around the living-room chandelier harmonize with the interior decorations of the home? Careful consideration of these and other questions anent sausage illumination will probably go far to conv nce throughtful persons that Professor Molisch’s dis- covery will only be valuable to illuminate the labors of those who write letters to the papers complaining that the world is going to the bow-wows. <K. L. Roberts. Why He Doubted —I'm afraid Dolly isn’t inter- ested in me any more. Griggs—What makes you think that? Briggs—Well, every time I’ve kissed her lately she has acted as if it didn’t much matter. A Relapse “Did you cure that patient you had with the failing memory?” “I thought so at one time,” replied the doctor, “ but I’m not so sure about it now. He went away and forgot to pay his bill.”” SHATTERED Ballade of the Harvest Moon HE glowing moon is a globe that's golden Hung in the arch of a cloudless As fair as the apples known of olden Where the Hesperidian gardens lie; The night winds croon and the night winds cry, And the bough-tops sway to a tender tun Love, let us wander, you and I, Under the gleam of the harvest moon! Out of glimmering amber moulden, The moon seems a bubble swung on high; A drifted dream from the days of olden, A vision out of the time gone by. ‘The night winds croon and the night winds cry; No sweeter they were in the prime of June; Love, let us wander, you and I, Under the gleam of the harvest moon! Ne’er was a lovelier sight beholden, And ne'er will be while the fleet years fly— Hues that shimmered and shone of olden Bright on the shields of chivalry! The night winds croon and the night winds cry, And every hour is a precious boon; Love, let us wander, you and I, Under the gleam of the harvest moon! Love, let us While the night winds cry and the night winds croon, And heart to heart makes fond reply Under the gleam of the harvest moon! —Clinton Scollard. comicbooks.co