Judge, 1917-09-08 · page 8 of 28
Judge — September 8, 1917 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a humorous short story by Chesterton Todd titled "Adventures With a Wife," satirizing the friction between spouses over clothing expenses and domestic finances. The narrative joke centers on a husband's suspicion that his wife has purchased an expensive new dress without his permission. When he demands the cost, she claims "not a cent"—revealing it's actually an old dress from her trousseau that he'd forgotten. The satire mocks the husband's immediate distrust and obsessive concern with the price tag, suggesting men's shallow materialism when confronted with women's fashion. The accompanying illustration and the brief joke labeled "Marked Up" continue this theme: a suitor claims a woman is worth a President's ransom (rather than merely a king's), joking about inflated female value in the marriage market. The top photograph ("Waiting for Transportation") appears unrelated editorial content showing a man at the seashore. The satire targets early 20th-century gender dynamics around marital finances and male anxiety about wives' spending.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Adventures With a Wife By CHESTERTON TODD TRUCIA was looking charming. P “You have on a new frock,” I said. “It is really quite wonderful.” “Isn’t it?” said Petrucia with a strange look in her eyes. She got up and began walking about the room like a manikin. “Quick! Jack, your gun—a periscope!” “You really like it,” she said, “because if you do I have something to. tell you about it.” The thought then occurred to me that Petrucia was de- ceiving me. It was a horrible thought. I began to examine the frock more closely It was certainly very handsome. I was really trying to appraise its value. Petrucia seemed to understand me. “Tt is a great pity, my dear,” she said somewhat severely, “that you can not look at a beautiful creation like this without wondering what it cost. But that is precisely what you are doing, now, isn’t it?” “Well,” I said brutally—for I wanted the horrid business over with, I wanted to know the worst—“how much did it cost?’” “Gues I began to be quite angry now for I saw quite plainly that Petrucia had once more done the very thing I most abhorred. “It is very hard for you to understand, Petrucia,” I said, “that it isan unmoral thing to do—to buy a frock like that—at enormous expense I’ve no doubt—without even consulting me. You know I’m more than liberal.” “You mean you think you are. All men think they are.” “Come now tell me the truth—how much did you pay for that frock?” “Not a cent.” WAITING FOR TRANSPORTATION “You mean you had it charged. Worse still.” Petrucia laughed her most derisive laugh. “How much do you think I paid for it?” she asked. “Two hundred.” “T told you not a cent.” “How much do I pay for it?” ota cent.” I caught her by the hand. “Tell me the truth,” I said sternly, “this has gone far enough.” “Tt is a pity,” ‘said Petrucia, “that you really decent thing without having so much suspi you have no memory. Don’t you know this is one of my frocks made for my trousscau? Dear, dear! and you never saw it before!” Marked Up Her father—My daughter's hand is worth a king’s ransom. Her suitor—A king’s? Man, she's worth a President’s! re ee A