Judge, 1918-06-22 · page 14 of 36
Judge — June 22, 1918 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two elements: a World War I narrative excerpt and an unrelated cartoon below it. The **narrative text** describes a soldier named Strong on a dangerous WWI messenger mission through heavily shelled territory. He discovers his comrade Julie—a French woman—is being assaulted by "Huns" (Germans) at a burning cottage. He rescues her and escapes on his motorcycle. The story emphasizes his heroism and suggests a romantic relationship; the final paragraph hints that French speakers ("those who speak the language of Julie") notice his increased attention to visiting her. The **cartoon titled "Barnyard Camouflage"** appears entirely unrelated. It shows farm animals (rooster, chickens, and other birds) with a joke about an old rooster named Gaston wearing a "wig"—likely meaning his feathers are disheveled or graying with age. The humor is simple barnyard comedy with no apparent political content. The cartoon's relevance to the facing page's WWI content is unclear.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
flict. The thcory was that at least one of the mes- sengers must get through. Strong had become callous to danger in the perform- ance of duty, yet he knew the present risk was the greatest he haa yet faced. The road he was to take for a part of the distance he was to go had been almost obliterated by shells, and was still being torn by the enemy artillery. Soon after he started a torrential rain set in. “As he rode his eccentric way his desire to reach his objective became stronger. It became an obsession when, after he had gone a few miles, he encountered the mangled body and wrecked machine of one of the men who had preceded him. The third man, he thought, might have been buried in one of the terrible eruptions caused by heavy projectiles. So he set his teeth and in- creased his speed. Twice he was thrown as his machine slipped on the edges of craters he sought to avoid, but he remounted and rode on, careless even of shells that burst in view. In the village to which he had Been directed—a place of stark and staggering ruin—he found the officer to whom his order was addressed. “Ts there any message to take back?” he asked. “No. Ishall respond in person with my men, but by another route. Going back?” “Yes. I’m the third man sent to you.” “And the only one to get through. Better remain and return with me.” “No. I must report.” And saluting, Strong turned and began to ride quickly. The vicinity was familiar to him, as he had passed through it on his way to the point where his detachment had been located before going to the front. He was full of a sudden wish to see Julie. He could not resist the temptation. By a detour he could reach the place. But as he rode swiftly he grew apprehensive. Was Julie still there? As he approached the village on the outskirts of which the cottage familiar to him was located—a village which had suffered in common with all others in the region—he saw smoke here and there. The rain had decreased to a drizzle. Nearing the cottage, he saw that it was burning slowly. The barbarians were re- turning, apparently. Suddenly a Hun appeared in the road ahead, raised his gun and fired at Strong, missing him. Strong increased his speed and made a feint to run the Hun down. As the fellow sidestepped in fear, the butt of Strong’s revolver felled him, the machine keeping on its way. In the roadway in front of the burning cottage Strong saw Julie—he could not mistake her—struggling with two Huns. There was no one else in sight. Dropping one of the assailants with a bullet from his revolver, Strong dismounted and felled the other. Before the girl could realize what was happening she was seated behind Strong on the machine, which was put at top speed. As they flew along shots were heard, with the sinister whistle of flying bullets. “Hold tight! Are you hurt?” he asked. “Non! Non! Je vous remercie!” she replied, cling- ing to him with a sob. In a village far enough to the west for safety Strong left the girl. When he reported back to his officer he was complimented on the duty he had performed as mes- He said nothing whatever of his other adven- senger. ture. But those who speak the language of Julie—which Strong is mastering under sentimental tutelage—pay him extraordinary attention when he visits her. BarnyarD CAMOUFLAGE “Poor old Gaston! He is getting so old he’s wearing a wig now!”