Judge, 1917-06-02 · page 7 of 28
Judge — June 2, 1917 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several unrelated humorous items typical of Judge magazine's satirical format: **Top Cartoon**: "Mrs. Chameleon" jokes about a socially awkward daughter who "blushed such a horrid green" in a pink drawing room—satirizing pretentious social anxiety among the wealthy about maintaining proper appearances. **"Airish Folk"**: Mocks affected upper-class affectations, particularly people with exaggerated preferences (spring water year-round, parlor matches for cooking). **"Evidence"** and **"Easy!"**: Sentimental poetry and a brief father-son joke about a prodigal son unconcerned with old age. **"Fishy"**: A short wordplay joke questioning whether someone is "ambidextrous" (meaning able to use both hands equally well, but misunderstood as swimming ability). **"Reggie Van Peyster"**: A society figure receiving an unexpected dinner invitation, using formal politeness while appearing slightly bewildered. The page reflects early 20th-century American satirical humor targeting upper-class social pretension and etiquette obsessions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
XUM SS Mrs. Chameleon—My dear child, you must really be more careful! I'm sure I don’t know what Mr. Swiveleye thought this afternoon when you blushed such a horrid green in the pink drawing room ! ‘The other guy gocs around a couple of times and then gets the checkered flag. He has won the great 600-Mile Inter- national Sweepstakes Gold Cup Race and the $300,000 prize! He did it with his cool head and his muscles of adium steel and his nerves of chrome nickel. Headwork won. We don’t know just how—but it always does. He runs around the great oval another time for extra measure, and then pulls into the pits. His companions cover his grim: with a hundred kisses. You sce, every body has got pretty much worked up about the race. And the president of the race-track comes out and congratulates him and hands him $300,000 and the great Gold Cup. He (the winner) smiles through the grime on the face and looks grateful for the $300,000 and looks as if he wondered what on earth he can do with the Gold Cup. It’s too big for any practical purposes. And ninety thousand people cheer, and t home, wondering what on carth a Gold Cup like that is good for. face If If more of us said what we thought there would be less conversation on this mundane sphere, Airish Folk McFee says—"One of my notions of airish folk, and T have several, is the man who wants spring water all the seasons of the year, and the woman who demands parlor matches for use in her kitchen.” Evidence HOUGH the lips of Marianne Speak but gracious platitude, Though her eyes Resting bring beatitude, ‘Though she scorn coquett Hope is flaming in my heart! Though her mother’s face be s Though her father worship gold, Sealing in a votive urn M1 the Sentiment ¢ Clouds of terro Hope is lami Breathing com} Hope is now a blazing Pulses all ate running wild. Let the whole worlc Marianne has pre . —J.E. Middleton, Easy! Father (sternly) — Don't you ever worry about how you'll spend your old age? Prodigal—Why. Dad. by that time what else will I have to spend? Fishy “Is he ambidextrous?” “No, he can’t swim a stroke.” Reggie Van Peyster (eccieng unexpected dinner invitation) —Why, yes, This is really very charming of you, irs. Willoughby. comicbooks.com