Judge, 1917-06-09 · page 11 of 28
Judge — June 9, 1917 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**"A Mean Trick"** satirizes small-town church politics and hypocrisy. Deacon Spurr complains that the congregation spent two years trying to remove Pastor Meeks through hints and anonymous letters. When Meeks finally resigned, the deacons made a formal motion requesting he stay—a polite church custom. Meeks accepted, withdrawing his resignation. Spurr feels "tricked" because their subtle campaign failed when put to the test. The humor lies in the gap between the deacons' genuine desire for change and their inability to be direct, their underhanded tactics backfiring when forced into honest procedure. The accompanying illustration shows a husband rejected from military service due to physical defects, now facing domestic labor while his wife exploits his "incapacity"—ironic commentary on wartime priorities. **"Treat for Shock"** is a light poem by Carolyn Wells joking that "treating for shock" has become a panacea for every modern problem.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A MEAN TRICK SPURR drew rein in the dooryard of Silas Rudd while on the way home from church on Sunday morning. The expression on the face of Deacon Spurr was not one of high spiritual exaltation and there was a total lack of joyfulness in his voice when he said, “You didn’t git in to meetin’ to-day, Brother Si.” Husband—Well, I've been rejected. The army doctor says my vision is defective, my feet are flat, my lungs are weak, my heart misses a beat, my kidneys —— Wife—Oh, how nice. Now you can help me clean house. Carry down the mattresses, beat the rugs, scrub the kitchen floor, move the piano, and bring down that old bureau from the attic “No, I couldn’t. Had a crick in my back all night an’ it was so bad this morning I thought I better not go. Anything happen?” “There sure did. You know well as I do how we have been trying for two years to git redd of Paster Meeks. We've hinted an’ even writ anonymous letters to him tellin’ him he'd better resign. The whole church has come to feel that we better have a change. You know that, don’t you?” “Sure I do. Ev'ry one knows it. “Well, he resigned to- day. It’s been rumored that he would so many times that no one felt any special s’prise when he read his resignation at the close of a short sermons.” “How you talk!” “Yes, he did! Of course we was all tickled to death over it an’ then —well, Brother Si, you know that it is customary when a paster resigns for some one to git up an’ move that he be rekested to withdraw his resigna- tion. It’s regarded as a matter of politeness to do that, you know.” “Of course it is.” “Well, when the paster had read his resignation Deacon Budd gits up an’ makes a motion that the paster be rekested to withdraw the resigna- tion an’ I up an’ seconds the motion an’ it was carried unannymous. An’ then——” The expression on the face of Deacon Spurr deepened to one of almost tearful gloom when he added, “An’ then he withdrawed his resigna- tion! Yes, sir, he withdrawed his resig- nation! If that wa’n’t a mean trick I can’t say it! Said that he couldn’t refuse our earnest rekest for him to con- tinue on as our paster an’ thanked us for the love an’ confidence we had in ‘im an’ there ye air! I reckon I better drive on or I'll be sayin’ something it ain’t becomin’ to a deacon to say. "Twas a mean trick all the same!” —Morris Wade. TREAT FOR SHOCK By CAROLYN WELLS “FIRST Aid” class I’ve joined, my dear, (There's one on every block,) And the instructions that I hear, Are, mostly, “Treat for shock.” A motor-car runs down a child,— A boy falls off the dock,— A railroad wreck shows horrors piled,— In each case, “Treat for shock.” And, so, if toa play I go That makes my senses rock Telling me things I didn’t know! I treat myself for shock. Or, if Papa is quite appalled At bills for hat or frock; I rub his head where it is bald, And suickly treat for shock. In best society I move, But at conventions mock. If Mrs. Sunday disapprove, I simply treat for shock. Maybe in days of old the knights were bold, but they ought to see some of our cabaret ladies.