Judge, 1916-10-21 · page 16 of 32
Judge — October 21, 1916 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Judge* contains several satirical pieces mocking upper-middle-class social life, circa early 1900s. **The cartoon** shows a naturalist studying a calf while two well-dressed figures observe—likely satirizing overly earnest scientific observation or pretentious intellectualism. **The vignettes mock club culture:** One story jokes about a woman outsmarting her husband by reporting their car stolen (to avoid paying him back $25), playing on stereotypes about women's cunning. Another mocks Col. Niblick's lonely golf practice—the humor being that no one was around to hear the typical "playing two" golf joke. **"Went Off Unexpectedly"** puns on a banker's embezzlement: nobody realized Swellbody was "loaded" (wealthy/criminal) despite his high social standing. **The poems** satirize club life as masculine refuge—a place to escape wives, domestic complaints, and bill collectors. The final poem parodies sentimental verse ("My Mother") but substitutes "My Club" as the idealized sanctuary. The punchline suggests men value their club more than marriage or responsibility. The satire targets affluent leisure culture and marital dynamics of the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“And you had violated the ordinance, of course.” “Well, there my car!" You got in bad, Lav Paid the policeman, [ suppose! That would be the woman’s way.” “Wait. I took a street car home, leav- ing the policeman on guard. When I got home [ called up Police Headquar- ters and told them my car had been stolen, giving them the number, etc.” “What a nerve, Lavinia!” “Just good business, Benjamin. I waited a while, and they ‘phoned that my car had been found standing in front of Blightley’s and in half an hour a po- liceman drove up with it.” “And that'’s—" “Yes. That's the way I saved you twenty-five dollars, dear!” a fire-plug right by Otherwise It Could Not Have Happened While Col. Niblick was addressing the ball it rolled from the tee, but nobody made the facetious remark: “Playing two.” It was early morning in the middle of the week, and Col. Niblick was out practicing alone. The Roll of Horror Visitor—I suppose Scribbs, the poet, is the best-posted man in the club. Member—Well. 1 wouldn't say best— but most. Went Off Unexpectedly Wallace (reading)—Great guns! I see that Swellbody, shier of the *Steenth National, has skipped out with $50,000 of the bank’s funds. Mrs. Wallace—My! Isn't he one of the big guns of society, John? Mr. Wallace—Yes, but nobody seemed to know he was loaded. Not Quite a Monopoly “The world is full of poetry,” ex- claimed the Optimist. “Yes, I dare say there is almost as much poetry in the rest of the world there is in the wastebasket,” added the Pessimist. The Club Man's Love HE said that she feared he dissembled, He pledged his affection anew; She clung to him closely and trembled, Still fearing it could not be true Her lips to his own were uplifted, And, clasped in his tender embrace, Together in fancy they drifted, Like patches of vapor, in space. “How can I be sure,” she repeated, “That all your affection is mine?” “My love is most true and deep-seated,” He said with an air that was fine. “It is something you well may believe in, "Tis love such as comes to the few; I sometimes believe I would even Consent to be clubless for you.” —S. E. Kiser. My Club (With apologies to the author of “My Mother HO takes me when I'm worn and weary And thrills me with its comforts cheery My Club! Where shall I find a genial glow When elsewhere all is dark with woe? My Club! Where is the haven free of ills, Like gas, and coal, and plumber’s bills? My Club! Where is the only quiet spot Where cares domestic vex me not? My Club! Where do I never have to can A sassy cook or hired man? My Club! Where finds the soul its refuge true When bill-collectors seek their due? My Club! When empty pockets make me sick. Where can I still get things on “tick?” My Club! Where can I find the best of steaks. And BETTER pies than Mother make? My Club! Where may I smoke with none to shrug At ashes dropped upon the rug? My Club! Where do I never hear complaint _ Because things are not as they ain't? My Club! Where is the spot that therefore I Shall faithful be to till I die? My Clu —A. Sujferan Mann.