Judge, 1918-08-24 · page 13 of 32
Judge — August 24, 1918 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Double Cross" - Judge Magazine Story This is the opening of a domestic comedy story, not political satire. The narrative depicts a marital negotiation: Reginald Van Idyll refuses his wife Flossie's request for a summer trip, citing lack of funds. When he dismisses her, Flossie secretly applies theatrical makeup to simulate illness—creating dark circles and a haggard appearance—to convince him she needs the trip for health reasons. The "double cross" refers to Flossie's deception: she manufactures false symptoms to manipulate her husband into financing the trip he'd refused. The story satirizes early-20th-century marital dynamics and feminine cunning rather than political issues. The illustration shows the setup: Reginald (left, indifferent) and Flossie in bed (right, plotting). This reflects period attitudes about women's limited autonomy and the strategies they employed to obtain their desires.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Listen!” Sue Surittep, aNpb Reap Da. Pouprepie’s Prescription The Double Cross By ‘Terreitt Love Hoiiipay Illustrated by Artuur G. Dove & EGINALD?” ‘The man stretched at ease in the Morris chair with his nose in the evening paper, made no reply. Pouting, Flossie Van Idyll tried again. “Reginald, is it out of the question for me to take a trip this summer?” “Ab-so-lut ’ responded her husband, without looking up. ‘There’s no use discussing the matter. I can’t spare the cash.” Flossie bit her carmined lip and her pretty face hardened. ‘He could raise the money if he wanted to; and he’s got to do it,”’ was her mental comment. When she had erased the anger from face and voice, Flossie spoke again. ‘I know you're hard up, dear, and I wouldn’t expect you to finance a pleasure trip. But I really need a change. I’m afraid I’m coming down with something.” “Humph!” grunted Reginald; and the conversation ended. Early next morning Flossie Van Idyll quietly crept out of bed, locked the door between her bedroom and Reginald’s and went to her dressing table. After half an hour’s skilful work with her make-up outfit, she resumed her morning nap. “T thought that I’d better lie still,” apologized Flossie, smiling wanly up at her husband, who had come to ascertain the reason for her non-appearance at the breakfast table. “I seem to be all in this morning.” “Maybe you do need a trip, Floss,” conceded Regi- nald, noting the ghastly whiteness of her cheeks, the purple shadows under her eyes and the deep new lines, which gave her such a drawn, haggard expression. “I'll stop and bring Doc Poudreple out this afternoon. If he says that you must have an outing, I’ll produce the mazuma, some way, though I don’t know how.” Following an unusually hearty breakfast, Flossie called Dr. Poudreple on the phone. “Dr. Poudreple, this is Mrs. Van Idyll. . . Has my husband made an appointment with you for this after- comicbooks.com