Judge, 1917-10-13 · page 8 of 28
Judge — October 13, 1917 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The top cartoon depicts a mother giving her son wartime advice about treating the enemy kindly—satirizing naive, sentimental attitudes about WWI combat. The irony is that such gentleness would be impractical or fatal in actual trench warfare. Below, "Recipe for Making a Best Seller" mocks commercial publishing practices: avoid genuine thought or quality writing; prioritize profit over artistry; consult censors before truth-telling; appeal to lowest common denominators rather than intelligent readers. It's a cynical critique of mass-market entertainment prioritizing revenue over integrity. The poem "Time, the Old Rip!" personifies Death as an indifferent reaper who destroys life without remorse while watching sand fall through an hourglass. "The Fellows Hard to Suit" jokes that a soldier impresses high-ranking officers but can't satisfy the sergeants and corporals—those with direct authority over daily life. The humor lies in this inverted hierarchy of actual power.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LY, |g In lar ike Mother's parting adeice—Now. George, when you are in the trenches, be gentle with the enemy and always treat him with kindness. RECIPE FOR MAKING A BEST SELLER By BENJAMIN De CASSERES Avo the sharp, epigrammatic style; it breeds thought. Prolixity is the mother of revenue. Avoid merely “good writing”; Flaubert and Poe died very poor because of this fad. If you must tell the truth about things consult the post-office inspec- tors first. Irony and the public do not mix; you must choose. You cannot film an ending.” Your heroines must be cither women with pasts or dollbabies— there are, of course, no other kinds. Raise babble to the Nth degree —the critics will call it the “gift of dialogue.” In no case shall thou commit /ése-sentimentalité “iy, inevitable He will appreciate it. TIME, THE OLD RIP! By STRICKLAND GILLILAN UCH a troublese Marching mer. And he never pays ne old fellow with his whisk and his snath— sly onward, down life’s pleasant garden path. tention, and he never seems to see Little plants along the borders, such as you and maybe me But he lets his long lance slither through the herbage, hither, thither— Never noting as he travels what he makes to fall and wither. Always watches he the trickling of the sand-grains in his glass~ Onward faring, never caring what must perish if he pass Grisly specter! Disconnecter of the human from his life! Unrelenting. unrepenting of the havoc of his knife! Even now while I expostulate impotently, and writhe, He is grimly stalking onward with his hour-glass and scythe The Fellows Hard to Suit Neighbor—How is your boy getting along in the army? Veteran—Well, he attracted the attention of the gereral, and made quite a hit with the colonel, and is very popular with his captain—but he is finding it awful hard to please the sergeant and the corporal.