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Judge, 1916-12-02 · page 13 of 36

Judge — December 2, 1916 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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Judge — December 2, 1916 — page 13: Judge, 1916-12-02

What you’re looking at

This illustrated story satirizes well-meaning but misguided parental earnestness. Mr. Marvin, a businessman characterized by obsessive over-preparation, insists on descending his home's chimney as Santa Claus on Christmas morning—despite his wife's practical objections and the children's advanced skepticism. The satire targets two things: first, the "self-made man" mentality that applies relentless efficiency to every endeavor, even Christmas magic; second, the disconnect between what parents believe children need versus what children actually want. His son Jack has already stopped believing in Santa and wants a practical torpedo boat, not theatrical surprises. Yet Marvin plows ahead, spending far more than his stated childhood standard of fifty cents, cleaning the chimney, purchasing costumes—all to impose his own nostalgic vision of Christmas onto children who've moved past it. The humor lies in Marvin's earnest blindness to his family's gentle hints that the elaborate scheme misses the point entirely.

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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE “SANDMAN” ARRIVED BEFORE SANTA CLAUS 66T AM GLAD,” said Mr. Marvin, “that this year I can at last give the children the sort of Christmas they ought to have.” Mrs. Marvin looked up from her needlework inquiringly. “When we were living in an apartment in the city,” he went on, “it was of course impossible; but here in this house of our own it will be quite simple.” “What do you mean, dear?” She knew he would tell her, anyway, but | it always pleased him to have her ask “Why.” he replied importantly, Christmas morning I shall come down the nursery chimney as Santa Claus.” This announcement rather startled her. “But, George, are you sure that “Quite, my dear. L’ve gone over every detail in advance. I’ve ordered the tume and all the paraphernalia, and engaged the men to clean out the chimney beforehand. You know I'm not the sort of person who does things half This was true indeed; for into everything that he attempted, from the negotiation of a business deal to the chasing of a mosquito, he put the whole energy of his being. No man could hit a golf ball with greater earnestness—particularly when he topped it. oresecing complications, she said: “Yes, George, I don't doubt that you could. really think it would be worth the trouble and expense? Little Betty is almost too young to appreciate it, and I’m afraid Jack doesn’t believe in Santa Claus any more. You must remember he's nearly seven. When he asked for that torpedo boat “Please let’s not discuss that again. Eight dollars for a Why, when I was a child, I was never ho LAWTON But do you toy is perfect nonsense. “FOR THE CHILDREN” allowed a plaything that cost: over fifty cents, and yet I was perfectly contented and happy.” “So you have often told me,” she said gently. “What I mean is that when Jack talks about that torpedo boat, he doesn’t ever say he hopes Santa Claus will bring it to him, but that we will give it to him.” “Tf he’s gotten sophisticated notions in his head, then it’s high time to drive them out; and this wholesome experience will be just the thing todo it. No: what you say only strength- ens my conviction that this thing ought to be done. I owe it to my children.” Sceing how he felt about the project, she subsided, despite her strong misgivings. She wanted his Christmas to be as happy as possible. Mr. Marvin, quite unconscious of her anxiety, was soon engrossed in zealous preparations. He bought a heavy rope and tied knots in it cighteen inches apart. The costume and various small necessities proved so much more expensive than ad thought that he decided to economize on the pack: an ordinary laundry bag would do. Great was his pleasure he rehearsed the scene in imagination. He saw himself descending the chimney with his burden of toys; then pausing just before he reached the bottom to rouse the children with a merry blast of his trumpet, so that they would be on the lookout when he appeared in the fireplace. Then he pictured their surprise and delight as they watched him fill their stockings, and their childish excitement as he drew forth his store of wonders from the bag. With his mind full of these happy thoughts, he could hardly wait for Christmas to come. On Saturday the 23rd the sweeps arrived, as agreed. They scrubbed out the chimney from top to bottom—first with their regular brushes and then, at a fancy price, with hot water and On Sunday the 24th the children’s Irish nurse MACKALL soap comicbooks.com