Judge, 1918-02-09 · page 11 of 36
Judge — February 9, 1918 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a humorous satire on wartime food rationing, written in faux-archaic English. The story depicts an English baronet returning home to find his daughters have hung a banner pledging food conservation for soldiers fighting in "ye Low Countries"—a reference to World War I combat zones. The joke centers on the baronet's hunger and bewilderment as his daughters enforce rationing on the household. What once meant lavish meals (three haunches of venison, six boar pasties) is reduced to meager portions. The baronet is trapped—he cannot protest without appearing unpatriotic to "countrie and to King." The satire mocks both patriotic women's "war work" (shown in the illustration of women making supplies) and the hardship rationing imposed on the home front. The absurdist medieval-speak emphasizes how serious—and annoying—civilian sacrifice had become during the war effort.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
SF OOIO SE a eae ed OW do I, Giles Paleale, Baronet, being yette of sounde minde and bodie, here and now sette downe ye plaine facts in ye case. Ods wounds, if my strength remaineth, I shall ere many days reach ye house of my kinsman, Ye Mac Aroon of Mac Aroon, which is in ye Ben Lomond countrie of Scotland, and there it may be my vigor renewed, I shall relate of ye recent happenings at greater length. Now— Odsdevilkins!—I am notte uppe to it. Know, thenne, that I am_ at, this writynge in dire peril of starvation, and that at ye hands of mine own daughters, Ye Ladye Rowena and Ye Ladye Diana, the same which keepeth house for me. ‘Tis now three days since, returning from ye chase in ye New Forest, I did perceive, hung from ye battlements of my castle, a huge banner. Uponne itte I did make out these words: Conserve ye Foode Supply and Help to Winne Ye War in Ye Low Countries. Summonynge my warder and my majordomo, I did make so bolde as to ask,What is ye bigge idea? Where- upon my warder did wag his head, as one in low spirits, and make answer that his mistress, Ye Ladye Rowena, hath caused this thynge to be done. “Ods blushes and blooms!” I did thenne exclaim, “peradventure this is more of what My Ladye and her sister doth please to term, Doynge their bitte.” And I minded me of the time but a fortnight since when my castle doth fair bulge with damsels from all ye shires, each making iron wristlets and tinne blanket- squares at forge and anvil in ye great hall, so that I am driven out upon ye battlements for a little of ye peace and quiette. “This banner betokeneth more bittes, and I mistake notte,” saith I unto myself, and summonynge my eldest daughter, Ye Ladye Rowena, I finde I have indeede ye right hunche. “What is this thynge which you do term Conserve?” I did aske of her; ‘‘and in what, mayhap, doth it affect Sir Gites Returninc From Ye Hunt Percetvetu Ye BANNER Al. %. Folwell from an old and bitberto unpub: lished manuscript Decorations by Gordon Ross my daily breade?” For, gadsobs, I was hungrie as ye horse of tradition. Whereupon My Ladye Rowena did explain unto me that ye banner on ye battlements was a pledge, for- sooth; that foode was first for ye soldiery and ye yeo- manrie now fightynge ye war in ye Low Countries, and that we at home could do our bitte—Odsblood! Ye word again!—by eating and drinking less. “Ods whips and wheels!” quoth I, “and when is it meet that we begin this thynge?”’ “Good my father, ’tis already begun,” answered she who is Ye Ladye Rowena. “Ye cooke and ye cellerer both have ye word.” And odslitherkins, it was even so! And I may not protest, for to do so would make me false to countrie and to King, so saith My Ladye Rowena and My Ladye Diana, her sister. Conserving ye foode, I did gette at table butte a single haunch of venison, in place of ye three which are my wont; and butte two pasties of ye wild boar and ye bean, York style, instead of my accustomed six. These, with butte a scanthalf dozen of hare and a brace of fowles must serve to content mine hunger night- ly for what Ye Ladye Rowena termeth ye Dura- tion of Ye War. “Odspluts”, quoth® I, “may ye strong winde blow ye * Tie Lavy Rowena Maxetit Mirrexs For Ye Soupiens “Damsels from all ye -shires, cach making iron wwristlets at forge and anvil in ye great hall.” .