Judge, 1918-11-02 · page 7 of 32
Judge — November 2, 1918 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Round About Rumpus Ridge" — Judge Magazine Satire This page presents three humorous rural sketches satirizing small-town American life, likely from the WWI era (references to "European struggle" and draft). **The sketches mock:** 1. **Rural conservatism**: A store proprietor resists change, preferring customers visit during inconvenient times rather than adapt. 2. **Misplaced priorities**: A tavern owner reveals that local gossip about a dead bachelor's two wives has completely displaced interest in actual war—suggesting rural America's detachment from serious events. 3. **Urban pretension and German spies**: J. Fuller Gloom fantasizes about infiltrating German spies who supposedly hide in rural areas with absurd intelligence (maps of barnyards, foot logs), mocking both spy hysteria and rural vulnerability to outsiders. The humor targets rural isolation, resistance to modernity, and the gap between small-town concerns and national events. The setting of "Rumpus Ridge, Ark." emphasizes backwoods provincialism.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Drawn by K.P, Scuaensre "Round About INCURABLES Rumpus Ridge By Tom P. Moxcax His Conservatism W THEN Mr. Gap Johnson, of Rumpus Ridge, Ark., entered the crossroads store he found the proprictor thereof, old Wess Pucker, sitting at ease on the small of his back and smoking contemplatively. “Howdy, Uncle Wess!” saluted the customer. “Have you got any axle-grease yur? “Well, I hain’t paid no pertickler ‘tention lately, reckon likely I have,” was the reply. “But, say, couldn’t you just as well have come around some time when I was—yaw-w-w-wn!—standing up?” War at Home “Nope!” said the landlord of the Petunia tavern, “We haven't beer indulging in much war talk of late. You see, old Munnihun, the banker, who had always been supposed to be a bachelor, died a couple of weeks ago, and two women promptly popped up claiming to be his wives. And the fight that his kinfolks of various degrees and two women are each and all put- ting up against all the rest of the claimants has practically driv’ all interest in the European struggle out of our heads. You know, this is right here where we can see and sense it, while Prawn by Cant Axornson we can only read about the battling over yonder in foreign parts.” fambly, I wuz exempt.” -—Did the gov'mint draft ye, Jim? y said thet bein’ We All Wonder “If L had nothing else to do I believe I would disguise my- self with a false nose, artificial whiskers, blue goggles, a Charlie Chaplin waddle and a whiskey voice,” grumbled J. Fuller Gloom, d circulate among those abysmally stupid German spies that seem to infest us so plentifully. I fain would find out what they expect to gain by sneaking around in an atmosphere of the most transparent mystery, with their pockets stuffed with cipher codes, maps of barnyards in Shellback county and drawings of foot logs across Haw Creek. Why do those thirty- third degree fools do so, and what in torment do they accomplish by it, except to get themselves into trouble?” A Disturber “Pardon me, Mr. Gloom,” said the Rev. O. Goode Evans, ‘but have you any really valid reason for not attending church.”” “Certainly!” replied J. Fuller Gloom. “lama somnambulist.” His Purpose “When I was over to Tum- linville Vuther day,” related Gap Johnson, of Rumpus Ridge, Ark., ‘I took a notion and went on to Forked Stick, twenty miles. furder.”” “What in thunder did you want to go there for?” inquired a neighbor. “Aw, just to sce what the world was doing,” was the airy reply. cz 1 wuz the only suppo't of a comicbooks.com