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Judge, 1917-09-15 · page 10 of 28

Judge — September 15, 1917 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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Judge — September 15, 1917 — page 10: Judge, 1917-09-15

What you’re looking at

This humorous story by Walt Mason satirizes self-righteous meddling. The narrator, a self-appointed moral crusader, first confronts a young man for not enlisting (likely during WWI, given references to "slackers"), only to be physically humiliated. Undeterred, he then intervenes in a domestic dispute, lecturing a man beating his wife about courtship promises—only to be struck unconscious by the wife herself with a board. The punchline: the narrator learns his lesson. He resolves to stop interfering in others' affairs entirely, accepting that even serious wrongs ("worlds may tear asunder") are none of his business. The satire targets two types: patriotic busybodies pressuring draft-age men, and sanctimonious do-gooders who insert themselves into private matters without understanding the full situation. Mason suggests that unsolicited moral intervention, however well-intentioned, often backfires—a progressive-era critique of paternalism.

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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

BUT TINGIN MET a six-foot fellow, and said to him, said I, “Oh, man I with streak of yellow, why don’t you bleed and die? You hear your country calling for able-bodied ginks; while braver men are falling, you hunt for ice cold drinks. Oh, shame that you should linger, and loaf the hours away; I'll take you by the finger, and lead you to the fray. I'd hate to be a slacker and with the slackers stand, without a friend or backer, by all good Injuns canned.” I know, not what the jay meant, but, when my speech was said, he took me by the raiment and stood me on my head It was a scene unnerving, and people laughed like sin; “That's what you are deserving,” they said, “for butting in.” ~ I saw a man abusing his gentle, patient wife, the bride of his own choosing, to be his chum through life. Big, husky, double-fisted, he pulled her auburn hair, her swanlike nose he twisted, he smote her with a chair. The brutal man I collared; he made my anger warm; “Come off your perch,” I hollered, “you fiend in human form! The man who'll swat a wo- man, or pull her pearly nose, is surely less than human, and what I tell you goes! Oh, when you used to court her, you told her, I expect, you'd fondle and support her, and cherish and protect. Along a path of roses you'd lead her, so you said; there’d be no pulling noses, or punching of her head. Now, listen, fiend, and mind me—” and even as I roared, his wife came up behind me and soaked me with a board. She spoiled my northwest gable, she knocked my head so flat I haven’t since been able to wear my Sunday hat. They put me on a shutter, and as they bore me off, I heard bystanders mutter, “The bloomin’, bleedin’ toff! They'll patch his skull, we’re guessin’, with corrugated tin; the fellow needs a lesson who's always buttin’ in.” Now I am strictly minding my personal affairs, and less of grief I’m finding, less worry, fewer cares. Though worlds may tear asunder, with an infernal din, I let them go to thunder, I am not butting in. HIS ABILITY ef HY do you invariably refer to him as the ‘able’ editor of The W ?alladium and Faithful Guardian of the Home and Firesi inquired the guest. “B'cuz,” replied the landlord of the Petunia tavern. “In addition to conducting his newspaper and supporting a wife and six children all the year round, each summer he acts as our baseball umpire and does so in such a masterly manner that he is very seldom assaulted. He knows or don’t know suf nt about medicine to run regularly in his paper a column of cures for ’most everything. He leads the choir, instructs the young ladies of the broom-drill squad every time an en- tertainment of that sort is given, pulls teeth as a personal favor to his indigent readers, does sleight-of-hand tricks at the church, and stands ready to inform all anxious inquirers how to tan their hides and pelts, read character by the lines of the hand, patch rubber boots, win the affections of the opposite sex, make invisible ink, cast horoscopes, locate precious metals in the bosom of the earth, live to green old ages, and so forth. And I should judge that a gent who can waste all that valuable time and in the face of the present high cost of white paper keep from starving to death, is exceedingly and eminently able.” —Tom P. Morgan. ANGERING WIVES wr do you find the most efficacious in causing your wife to lose her temper? Have you ever thought of If not, do so at once. It is an interesting study. Some wives become very angry at one thing while other wives pass over one thing with a serene countenance and only get mad at another thing. Husbands should master this subject as early as possible in their married careers. Very often it is necessary to make your wife angry on short notice, and when this necessity arises, domestic preparedness requires that you know exactly what to do. Those who want to go into the subject more deeply and study what it is that arouses the anger of other men’s wives will find it highly interesting and instructive.—E. O. J. It isn’t as if our statesmen who can’t understand what America is fighting for didn’t make a Fair gardener—No overalls for me, my dear! See how splendidly my skirt measures off the rows! comicbooks.com