Judge, 1917-05-26 · page 11 of 32
Judge — May 26, 1917 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The top cartoon, "One in a Thousand," depicts an employee (Henry) successfully extracting a large payment ($2,400) from his boss by saying nothing and letting the boss talk himself into it—a satire on workplace dynamics and how silence can be strategically effective in negotiations. The main illustration shows a woman (Mrs. Haranger) at a military parade, proudly pointing out "her boy, Jimmie" among marching soldiers—likely satirizing mothers' pride during WWI era military mobilization. The story "Revenge at Last" mocks Mrs. Haranger, a birth-control advocate forcibly fed in jail (referencing Margaret Sanger's actual 1917 imprisonment). Her son laughs at her mistreatment, recalling his mother force-feeding *him* castor oil as a child. The satire suggests that those promoting "limited edition families" deserve similar coercive treatment—a hostile commentary on early birth-control activism. The shorter items are typical period humor about gender relations and military recruitment, with the final quip critiquing men's reluctance to enlist despite eagerness for other pursuits.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ONE demanded Henry, taking out several order-slips from his desk and haughtily showing the last one to his boss. “Twenty-four-hundred-dollars,” gasped “Henry! Henry! How did you done “By saying notting, notting!”’ replied , With a royal air, “and letting say everything!” Markowitz. Drawing the Line “There is an educated ape in the side show that can say ‘Papa’ with perfect distinctness, and——” “Well, he'd better not say it tome!” snapped J. Fuller Gloom. We Generally Are Wife—Don’t you think a great, big, tall, married man ought to be taken into the army just the same as anybody else? Hub—My dear, he only looks tall; as a matter of fact he is probably short. Surprising It is surprising how many great men every woman knows —if she is willing to believe them. IN A, THOUSAND “—Oh! Look lady, that’s my boy, Jimmie!” REVENGE AT LAST; OR THE TABLES TURNED RS. HARANGER, the advocate of limited edition families, had been forcibly fed in jail, and there was great indig- nation throughout her set. Some people even proposed going to the extreme of passing some resolutions and sending them to the mayor. It was reported that a brutal jailor had held Mrs. Haranger’s arms, while another administered malted milk, or some other horrible concoction, with a table-spoon. A committee hurried to her son’s office to see what he intended to do about it. They told him about the arms, and the spoon, and the malted milk. And what do you suppose the wretch did, that most unfilial son? He burst out laughing! “Really,” said Mrs. DeSmythe, “it doesn’t seem to me that this is any time for laughter.” “I know it,” replied the son, “and I beg your pardon. But I was just thinking of the time when Mother used to get Dad to sit on me in bed while she gave me castor oil.” —Douglas Malloch. We wish some men’s eagerness to get to the front were half as intense as their desire to put up one. comicbooks.com