Judge, 1917-01-06 · page 17 of 32
Judge — January 6, 1917 — page 17: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains satirical commentary on World War I's economic impact on American civilians. The top cartoon shows a motorist bragging about his car's gasoline efficiency while producing massive exhaust clouds—likely mocking both automotive boasting and fuel concerns during wartime rationing. The main poem "The Innocent Bystander" (attributed to L. O. Reese) is the page's centerpiece. It expresses bitter complaint from a non-combatant about how the war has devastated his domestic life: inflated food prices (beans, sugar becoming expensive as "diamond dust"), depleted grocery purchases ("one lone prune and seven cents"), and pervasive anxiety. The speaker protests his suffering despite being geographically distant from combat, sarcastically addressing "God of War." The remaining sections—"From a Sinner's Diary," "Warning," and "Flight of Time"—are humorous domestic observations unrelated to war, offering comic relief on marriage, fashion, and relationships. Overall, the page reflects Judge magazine's use of satire to critique both wartime hardship and everyday American absurdities.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
a VIIAA WITH GASOLINE WHERE The dricer—Yes, old man, this is a great car. The Innocent Bystander AY off this stuff, O God of War! What are you shooting my way for? Why do you do the things you do?— I've never done a thing to you. Secure beyond the spreading sea, No war, I felt, could injure me; How could I know your bomb machines Would skyward blow the price of beans? How could I know that soon I'd feel On my own neck your grinding heel, And in my coffee—is it just?— Put sugar, dear as diamond dust! How could I know that when I went Into my grocery and spent My weekly wage, I'd fare from thence With one lone prune and seven cents? The things I eat, the things I drink, Almost the very things I think, The things I wear—farewell! for each Is drifting slowly from my reach. I cannot smile. A joke’s a joke, But this one nearly has me broke. O God of War, lay off this stuff! Believe me, I have had enough. —L. O. Reese. The strain upon the anti-crack New- Year resolutions is beginning to be felt. LFF LLO xtfo From a Sinner’s Diary ] PRESUME my neighbor thinks she wouldn’t holler so at her horse. She would if it was her row of peas he was prancing up. Sometimes they’re hard to sell to be- cause they intend to pay. Brother's gyroscope is crossways. If he plows a little alfalfa patch he’s so dizzy for days that I have to catch his horse and hitch up for him to go fishing. Alto and Soprano would be good twin- * names. To make ’em want it—take it away. The horror of a thing is put in us as a cheering surety that it’s coming. Dear! I wish I could sleep like the rest can! If a coop blows over in a thunder storm and a chicken keeps yelling it’s all up with me, till I fish around in the dark for a diving suit to go down and tilt the coop off him. Whereupon he hides in the grass and drowns. But it stops his yawl. They all like hens but me, yet I never behold a watering trough but it’s empty and nineteen birdies by it eying me. Some folks find their biggest four-leaf ° clover the day they die. Persons too nice to let you think they do their own washing probably do it in their dishpan. A young one should be hammered half the time and encouraged the other half. When things get ready to happen, by gracious, they happen. They won't side-track. I’ve noticed that. The way the fashions are now a slim girl don’t look any worse than a fat one. Bait a man with a woman, a woman with a dress.—Lynetle Freemire. IT IS Why, I get twenty feet to the drop, sometimes ! Warning NEVER ask your husband what he has been doing all day. If he doesn’t want to tell you, the question will merely annoy. If he does want to tell you, he will do it without being asked. Flight of Time She—Scientists have discovered a rat as big as a bear, which dates back to 2,000,000 B. C, He—Why, Maria, it seems only yesterday you wore ’em. Her dear friend—OF course she has told you of her former marriage ? Her fiancte—Not a bally word—really ! Her dear friend—She doubtless has forgotten all about it, as he has the children. comicbooks.com