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Judge, 1917-01-13 · page 4 of 28

Judge — January 13, 1917 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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Judge — January 13, 1917 — page 4: Judge, 1917-01-13

What you’re looking at

This page from *Judge* magazine features a humorous editorial titled "The Fool Stunts of Science!" The main text satirizes scientific claims about digestive health and insects, mocking what the writer considers pseudoscientific assertions—particularly regarding bugs' effects on digestion and the stomach. The decorative header shows cherubs manipulating clouds and natural elements, a classical artistic motif used for editorial framing. Below the text is a simple cartoon dialogue between two men—labeled "Mr. Stone" and "Mr. Holder"—discussing someone in business for twenty years who "knew it the minute I saw you," a joke about snap judgments or reading character. The page primarily contains satirical social commentary rather than identifying specific political figures. It targets general scientific pretension of its era through humorous exaggeration.

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

The Fool Stunts of Science! CIENCE is up to more of her fool stunts. The news columns tell us of a girl with five distinct personalities who ing! Cured? Denatured, ra- ther! Since the days of our com- mon ancestress —her whom Vice-President Marshall calls “that business. We have with no slight fortitude faced the fact that our interior is an Armaged- don of ants, a Marathon of microbes lived to an impressive age in spite of— or was it because of?—an equally impres- sive ignorance of the effects of bugs ap- plied internally, save possibly bug juice. Whereas we, their science-stricken scions, know that whatever our stomachs crave will raise hob with our stomachs. We dope our digestion, and die of dys- pepsia—and lo, he whom we hated worst takes our widow for a spin in our favorite speed demon. And after the gentlemen in "Cause Science told us we've got stomachs.” We warn Science that there is such a thing as going too far. Man may pay to in which the bad bugs beat the ben- eficent buglets to it. Having dined not wisely but too well, how often have we mourned that our symptoms are sad. Yet rejoiced that they are scientific! When a man’s stomach tastes like a Nux Vomica cocktail with Aqua Fortis as a chaser if it doesn’t make him happy to realize that he personi- fies the Truth of Science, we don’t know what will. Our grandsires defied Science sim- ply because they had never made her Sic woman the subtle compliment of marry- ing five of her because each of the four earlier ventures were so charming that he simply must see what the fifth would has been cured “My granpop,” said the North Woods’ _ be like. by psychictreat- guide, “lived to be a centipede, an’ he Obviously, however, the compliment ment. never heered tell of no insecks in his _ lies in masculine free will—in so far, that Psychic ‘noth- _ insides.” is, as the male may be said to exercise free will in matters of this venture. It is against public policy if not against public morals to compel a man to marry five times in order to live with five wives, when he does it now by marrying only one. Sixes and Sevens Worms, the men of science tell us, have ner Thousands of worms must perish miserably of nervous prostration superinduced by the size of the fish that got away. When wooden shoes come, if they ever do, we can make the children happy by letting them play on a tin roof.—Toledo Blade. After you went and borrowed the children who'd lend you the tin roof? * Never attempt to cross a street with a bundle or umbrella over your head or reading a newspaper. — Police Commis- stoner Woods of New York. acquaintance. Science was there, and An umbrella reading a newspaper i charming little soubrette, Eve’”—what white gloves have done their part, there NSETTLED questions have no re- } y girl with only five personalities ever is an epitaph in the family burying plot gard for the repose of nations. } needed or wanted to be cured? which says: Wu Ting Fang—the queue with the ques- i Varium et mutabile—so let her be, God “Here lie the bones of Lemuel Luggs, tion mark—is coming over to ask us | bless her!—and let Science, sour old Who died of microbes—likewise bugs; some more. maid, leave her alone and mind herown _His eating-gear went all kerflummix, # } our grandsires were there—else were Mr. Stone—I've been in this business twenty years, is a sight when it crosses a street. | we not here—but the social conveni- ences were crude and nobody thought tointroduce them. So our grandsires young man, and it’s taken me just that long ¢o realize s that I don’t know the first thing about it. Mr. Harder—That's funny! I knew it the minute I saw you! A peace dove perplexer: When is a coup not a coo? pees as CUTTS A! comicbooks.com