Judge, 1917-08-18 · page 22 of 28
Judge — August 18, 1917 — page 22: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a humorous story about an elderly rural woman's first baseball game. Aunt Susan-Maria, a cranky small-town widow, is reluctant when asked to be a Red Cross ball game patroness (buying tickets to support charity). She agrees only to get rid of the solicitor. At the game, her unfamiliarity with baseball rules and etiquette produces comedy: she tries to leave when the umpire calls "Out," complains about stray chickens near the bases, and expresses horror at a player sliding into base because it dirties his uniform. The satire gently mocks rural Americans' bewilderment with modern urban pastimes and their practical, no-nonsense values. Aunt Susan-Maria represents the unsophisticated country person encountering unfamiliar city customs—a stock character in early 20th-century humor. The page also advertises Eugene Zimmerman's cartooning instruction book.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
beauty of young womanhood—simple—pure— insly refreshing—Coca-Cola bases its neither on art nor artificiality. A delicious and refresh- ing combination of the wholesome products of Nature. Demand the genuine by full name— nicknames encourage substitution. THE COCA-COLA CO., ATLANTA, GA. vosunacntegneneeeaoesconeenenneant If you can draw a little and | want to draw more, you have | an opportunity to learn at small | expense to yourself. EUGENE ZIMMER- MAN has an established |, reputation as a car- | toonist. He has put some of the | tricks of his trade into | a book, “CARTOONS and CARICATURES” bound neatly in 34 mo- rocco, which will be sent to you prepaid on receipt of $1.00. ZIM BOOK 8-18 Brunswick Building, 225 Fifth Ave., New York City | her seat muttering she didn’t think much of ball games, nohow. “é UNT SUSAN-MARIA, we want you to be a patroness for the Red Cross ball game Saturday,” said Clara C. N. Toosenbury Mara Law, chairman of the local Red Cross chapter as she ascended | the porch and sank into one of Aunt-Susan Maria’s cushioned rockers and | lay her head back against the “tidy,” with its beadings of gay yellow ribbons. “ Now what in Sam Hill do you want me to be a patroness at a ball game for? You know I never been to a ball game in my life and don’t hold with unt Susan. ia queried in perplexity, pushing her glasses high on her forehead and peering in astonishment at her visitor. “That doesn’t matter an inch. All you have to do to be a patronessis y two tickets for the game and the Red Cross gets the moncy. The ame’s going to be ahummer. The home team plays the Middletown boys” “Well, if that’s all it means to be a patron: don’t find my hair crimp- ing from pride, but I might’s well give in gracefullike without bein’ an old Shylock, so give me two of those there tic! I must say I'd rather sit here on my front porch, than go get freckles at a ball game, though,” was Aunt Susan-Maria’s parting shot, as her visitor arose, all smiles and affa- bility. Friday afternoon the undertaker stepped in a minute to tell Aunt Susan- Maria that if she was going to the game next day, he’d bring along his wagon and fetch her and as Aunt Susan-Maria would rather ride than eat, and hated even the thought of missing such a chance, she opined “as how she calculated to go.” The next day as she mounted the seat beside him, she chuckled grimly and said, “I guess I’m about the liveliest person ever rode in this wagon.” j At the ball ground she found several members of the Ladies’ Aid and they amused themselves with a dish of town gossip until the umpire said: “Play ball.” Soon the umpire called, “Out,” and Aunt Susan-Maria hastily arose and began to evacuate the grandstand. “Wh you goin’?” Clara C. N. Too- Law inquired in a stage whisper. Phat man said to get out, and I’m going before the crowd gets started,” was the reply. After a whispered explanation Aunt Susan-Maria resumed . “When the umpire called, “ Foul,” she astonished the ball fans by calling out, “You better not let those chickens run around loose and scratch up the gardens, for there’s a village ordinance ag’in it.” A few seconds later she was greatly distressed to see one of the men on bases slide home safe, com: pleting the last few feet of his journey on his stomach, much to the detri- ment of his neat, white uniform. “Ain't that awful the way Jim Brown has ruined his suit?” she asked the spectators. “It's the first decent-looking one I ever saw him wear.” When the next man stole second with the bases full, a Small boy danced around the field yelling, “You pulled a ‘bone’ for fair that time!”” Imme- diately Aunt Susan-Maria was all concern. ‘Here, let me out quick. Send for a doctor. One of the players has broke his arm.” “Don’t worry, Aunt Susan-Maria. There are no bones broken; that’s merely a base ball term,” the minister reassured her. “Nobody hurt, eh? Well, there would be if I could get my hands on that boy. Talk about a base ball term, if I had my way some of those boys would become acquainted with a different sort of term. I'm going. I’ve had about all I can stand for one afternoon,” she said, preparing to mount the under- taker’s wagon Everyone heartily agreed with her when she said, “A ball game is mighty upsetting to my nervous system. Enuf’s enuf.” comicbooks.com —