Judge, 1917-08-11 · page 14 of 28
Judge — August 11, 1917 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces of satirical content: **The Hotel Gossip Scene (top):** A cartoon depicting three women gossiping at a hotel about mysterious guests. They speculate that an unregistered woman might be a German spy, then identify a man as "Obadiah Smith, the copper king," a wealthy industrialist currently involved in a sealed divorce case. The humor targets upper-class scandal-mongering and the intrigue surrounding wealthy figures' private lives—particularly the mention of a "co-respondent" (the woman named in divorce proceedings), suggesting infidelity among the wealthy. **"Ambitionless Ambition" (poem by Berton Braley):** A satirical poem expressing ironic envy for the contentment of ordinary middle-class life—a modest two-family house, steady income, and freedom from ambition's struggles. The satire cuts both ways: mocking both the speaker's restless striving and the supposed simplicity of conventional domesticity. The illustrations and text together capture early 20th-century American anxieties about class, wealth, scandal, and the tension between ambition and contentment.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
be uncivil, you know. They wouldn't let him. He probably thought you were too curious. What did he say?” “He evidently thought it was none of my business, though he didn’t say so. He said ‘the lady is here incog. I don’t know who she But she is some one of note, who wants to be quiet.’ And then he turned to answer some one else’s questions.” “Why! The idea! How can one stop at a hotel without registering?” “But she may not register her real name. Haven't you heard of great personages keeping their identity secret—for diplomatic or other reasons?” “Yes. But she isn’t a diplomat. She’s too pretty. Do you think she may be a German spy?” “What nonsense! Look! She’s flirting with that dis- tinguished-looking man who just came in. Making eyes at him! And he’s making eyes back! But isn’t he careful about it! You'd think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth! He’s asly one! He looks as dignified as a bishop, but a bishop would never wear such a stylish suit. I wonder who he is!” A third woman came up and greeted the two gossippers with her finger on her lips. ‘‘I told you, didn’t I, that I should find out? Sce that fine-looking man who just came in? That’s Obadiah Smith, the copper king. Worth millions and millions.” “Why,” said one of the others wide-eyed, “he was sued for divorce by his wife the other day!” “Yes,” said the newcomer. ‘And the papers were sealed. But my husband is a lawyer, you know. He’s in the case. And he just told me, in confidence. “But Obadiah Smith must be a gay one! He's flirting with her.” And the gossiper indicated the strikingly handsome woman, who had risen and was moving indoors, while Obadiah Smith’s eyes followed her. “Flirting with her!” sniffed the lawyer's wife, “why, she’s the co-respondent!” AMBITIONLESS AMBITION By BERTON BRALEY OMETIMES when I weary of life that is spent In worry and struggle and strife, I envy the simple and solid content Of those who go plodding through life; Who stick to conventional ways till they die With no more “ambish” than a mouse, The common-place people who rent or who buy A model two-family house. A grass-patch in front and a back-yard behind A porch with a roof and a rail, A residence type that is planned and designed And built by the thousand—for sale; O often I dream of a place just like that From which I could drive care “ Heraus!”” And placidly vegetate while I grew fat In a model two-family house. No heights of achievement, no depths of despair, But comfort and quiet and ease, My pipe and my paper, my soft easy chair How placid I could be with these, With common-place business and common-place friends My high aspirations I'd douse Complacently ambling through life till it ends In a model two-family house. “WHY” ‘e HY” is one of the most dangerous words in the lan- guage. Any nation which wants to remain in statu quo; which wants to cling lovingly to the good old times that never existed; which believes in the conservation of stagnation, should be very sparing of its “whys.” “Why” is the opposite of faith. So long as we have faith in the divine right of kings, for in- stance, everything is lovely (for the kings), but when we begin to ask why, uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. So long as we have faith in the indispensability of monopo- lists, there is no hope for the common people, but when we begin to ask why, uneasy grips the hand that clips the coupon. So long as we assume that knowledge of existing laws is more important than opinions and judgments as to what the laws should be, the lawyers are in fine fettle, but when we begin to ask why, uneasy lies the head that weaves legal technicalities. So long as we assume that a year or two in a medical college will turn a portion of the human race into scientific saints, we may be happy with the bodily ills that beset us, but when we begin to ask why, uneasy moves the hand that wields the scalpel. So long as we assume that a political orator is putting up a good argument simply because he is talking nonsense loudly and pounding the table, our reverence for government is su- preme, but when we begin to ask why, uneasy stand the feet that are sppported by a political platform.—Ellis O. Jones. As It Were She—Well, she married him, but his income is all tied up in alimony to his first wife. He—Sort of matrimony ex div., as it were. FRESH PHILADELPHIA Sy SPRING CHICKEN} To -DAY “Waiter, did you live in Philadelphia as a boy?" “No, sir. Why do you ask, sir?” “L thought maybe you knew this chicken.”