Judge, 1917-03-31 · page 13 of 28
Judge — March 31, 1917 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three unrelated humor pieces typical of early 20th-century satirical magazines: **"My Soul"** is a philosophical poem by Lurana Sheldon pondering the transmigration of souls through evolutionary stages—from primordial matter through animal forms to humanity. It's satirizing contemporary interest in spiritualism and pseudo-scientific theories of soul evolution popular in that era. **"Not the Reply He Expected"** and **"Making the Best of It"** are brief comedic dialogues playing on gender role reversals and social conventions—a man embarrassed about prior engagements versus a woman claiming five, and a woman making light of an absurd legal requirement for bathing attire. **"Dogs"** is a humorous essay by Leslie Van Every offering observations about urban dogs, including references to "coach-dogs" (spotted dalmatians) and emerging "auto-dogs" (dogs adapted to automobiles). The accompanying cartoon appears to show dogs discussing human behavior, with the caption poking fun at selective breeding or odd dog origins. The page reflects Judge's typical mix of philosophical satire, romantic humor, and everyday social observation.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
TWELVE O'CLOCK, MY LURANA SOUL By SHELDON HILE all other human beings are concerned with some affair On this rolling mundane planet, on the ocean or in air Only one important subject holds my brain cells in control— Tam out for information on Philogeny of Soul! When a lot of gas and vapor was monopolizing space Without any faint suspicion of a coming human race, In some foggy bit of moisture did I hover in the air? Was my entity a floater? Was my soul cavorting there? When combining force and matter froze the ether into chunks And the earthy bodies, settling, broke apart in massive hunks, Was my soul still evoluting from the essence of its birth By inhabiting some monster on this ball we call the earth? And in some such crawling creature with a dozen legs or fins Did I first begin to wonder why I had so many sins? When my back was fat and furry and I lived within a hole Did I start the life-long worry the saving of my soul? Yes, I'm after information as to when and where began That hard straining for salvation that has always pestered man For in all those other stages I was doomed to live and die, And my soul was saved, I take it, or I would not now be I. Not the Reply He Expected He (just after being accepted)—l—er that I’ve been engaged once before! She—Oh, you slow-poke, why this is my fifth! want to confess Making the Best of It He—Here’s a Jersey justice declares that bathers must wear stockings. Now what? She (glancing at shapely ankle)—Oh, I'll grin and bare it. AND ALL’S WELL DOGS THAT great reigner, Nero, were on carth to- have to be yelled at across the street several before he’d look around or up. He'd hear his name the first time, but would wait to make sure it wasn’t some dog that was being hollered after. We are having a lot of difficulty forgetting the first time we were in the presence of a spotted coach-dog. We stepped out of a drug-store one afternoon, and there he laid sprawled before us, on the sidewalk under an awning in the shade. We gave him a suspicious glance, and then looked up to see if the sun wasn’t shining on a common, everyday dog through some holes in the awning. When auto-dogs come into style, the dash-hound will find himself in big demand, because he’s about the only canine who can travel along un- der a machine without stooping, and making bunglesome work out of it. Dogs might be lots healthier than they are if they’d prac- tice breathing through their nose more, especially during the hot weather.—Leslie Van Every. “I heard that she was hatched from a red Easter egg!” comicbooks.com