Judge, 1918-02-23 · page 27 of 36
Judge — February 23, 1918 — page 27: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page mixes advertisement with wartime humor. The **N.B.C. Oatmeal Crackers ad** (left) is straightforward product promotion. The **right side contains satirical short pieces** reflecting WWI anxieties. "When My Ship Comes In" by Ruth Wright Kauffman is the most significant—it's a poignant poem about a mother waiting for her son to return from war ("My boy is in the hold" of a ship carrying 3,000 khaki-clad soldiers). The anxiety about whether the ship will return fully crewed ("Will a thousand lack?") reflects real wartime losses. The other brief jokes address **home-front wartime concerns**: food rationing ("Hotel de Soake"), food conservation (chicken raised on coffee grounds), and **draft-dodging mockery** ("slacker"). The "Principal Masqueraders" joke about landlady's poor-quality food uses the contemporaneous term "camouflage"—military jargon entering civilian speech. Overall, the page juxtaposes commercial normalcy with earnest and satirical reflections on war's impact on American families and society.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A Perfect Food For Breakfast A few crisp, appetizing N. B. C. Oatmeal Crackers—a bowl of fresh, sweet milk or cream (hot or cold) and you have one of the finest breakfast foods you can imagine. Oatmeal in its most delicious form, nutritious, just sweet enough without adding sugar, N.B.C. Oatmeal Crackers offer you and your family a welcome change from your regular breakfast food. NATIONAL BISCUIT COMPANY Fx Uneeda Biscult When My Ship Comes In By Rutu Waricur KAurrMan HE ship I want is far away And sails a treacherous sea. God guard its cargo night and day And bring it safe to me! ‘The ship I want is painted gray And laden—as with gold. How dear the treasure who can say?— My boy is in the hold. ‘Three thousand men in khaki-brown Are jammed within that ship; If she goes down, three thousand drown: It is no pleasure-trip. The days are long, the nights are long; When will my ship come back?— And will she be three thousand strong, Or will a thousand lack? . . An empty ship?—No ship at all?— Those fears again begin.— “Goodbye! Cheer up!” T hear him call, My boy—my khaki-man— And then, I guess, I plan and plan For when my ship comes in. Rather Difficult “So they are going to serve smaller portions at the Hotel de Soake?” “T don’t know, but they’re going to try.” Principal Masqueraders New boarder—Does the landlady prac- tise camouflage? Old boarder—Y es, but with little success. For instance, what she refers to as “butter” and “coffee” doesn’t fool any of us old-timers. No Trick Mr. Saphead—I'm afraid I have made an awful fool of myself. Miss Kutting—That’s nothing to brag about. You had ideal material to work with. A War Bird “This chicken seems to be all dark meat.” “Yep, we're conserving food at our house. Little thrown away; you know. Weraised that chicken on coffee grounds.” An Epitaph ERE lies a slacker, Archie Mutt, Whose virtues all were faults; He never smelt gunpowder but He died of smelling salts. . He Remembered The wise one—Of course you have read “Pilgrim’s Progress.” Remember the place where Pilgrim got stuck in the Slough of Despond? The motorist—Oh, yes—-and his engine went dead right in the middle and he had to pay a farmer ten dollars to pull him out. A Leaning That Way Mrs. Spratt—Is she musically in- clined? Mrs. Catt—Well, she seems to have a ' leaning toward the pianist!