Judge, 1918-11-23 · page 5 of 32
Judge — November 23, 1918 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Her Very First Turkey" by Lisle Bell This is a humorous domestic dialogue between a newlywed wife and butcher about purchasing her first turkey for Thanksgiving. The satire centers on the wife's inexperience with household management and cooking. She lacks basic knowledge about turkey size, preparation, and whether to remove giblets or stuffing before roasting. The butcher patiently answers her naive questions about bone deductions, bird weight, and even suggests substituting duck instead. The joke reflects early 20th-century gender expectations: a young bride is comically ignorant about domestic duties despite marriage. The illustration shows the butcher's bemused expression as he indulges her questions, emphasizing the humor of her complete culinary incompetence. This gentle satire mocks both newlyweds' adjustment to household responsibilities.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Her Very First Turkey By Liste Bett Illustration by Witrreep Jones HE—Is it too early to order a turkey for Thanksgiving? He—No, ma’am. -[ want you to lay one away for me. He—Yes, ma’am. Sne—You won't actually lay it away though, will you? You see, [ am afraid it wouldn’t stay fresh. I suppose you just make a memorandum of it. Is that the —e—Yes, ma’am. You won’t forget, will you? If you don’t mind, I'll phone you the day before Thanksgiving—to make sure. You understand it’s not that I’m afraid you won't keep your word; it will be just to relieve my mind. Hre—Yes, ma’am. Sue—I believe that will be all today. You may charge it. He—About how large a bird do you want? Sue—Why, I hadn't thought. About a small family size, I suppose. You see, there’s just my husband and myself. It will be our first Thanksgiving since we were married. He—About how many pounds? Sut—Oh, they go by pounds, do they? I hadn’t the slightest idea. I'll take a three-pound one. {e—I'm afraid they ain’t killed that little. Sue—Aren’t they? Then how large do you think I ought to have? He—A twelve-pound turkey would be very nice. Sue—Twelve pounds? That seems azefully large. Why, that’s six pounds api He—There’ll be some waste, ma’am. S -Oh, but I don’t evant any waste. I really don’t see why I should pay for waste, anyhow. Why don’t “Ou, Tuey Go By St Pounps, Do Tuey?” you butchers make a deduction for bone ion’t you ever allow for the bones? They’re of no earthly use to us, you know. Well, send me a twelve-pound one. He—Thank you. Sue—Oh, I just happened to think Will a twelve-pound turkey go in my roaster? How big would a twelve-pound turkey be with the feathers off? He—About the size of these scales. Sue—I think that will be all right, then. I’m glad I thought to ask. I be- lieve that will be all today. You may charge it. He—You want the turkey drawn? Sue—Oh, no, you needn’t draw it. If it’s no bigger than these scales, I’m sure it will go in my roaster. I don’t need to sce how it looks. He—I mean, do you want the giblets removed? e—Oh! You mean, do I want you to take out the gizzard and—everything. Certainly, I have to have a place for the dressing, don’t I? That reminds me, what do you put in the dressing besides stale bread? He—I’m not sure, ma’am. Sue—I think they use onion, but I’m not certain. Perhaps it’s celery. But I don’t ever recall seeing any celery tops. Maybe I can find out from the woman on the floor below. She wasn’t home, when I left. Or I might have duck instead of turkey. They don’t put stuffing in duck, do they? He—I think they do, ma’am. Sue—Well, I guess I wouldn't help matters by changing from turkey to duck, if that’s the case. I thought I might try a nice razor-back duck, if it didn’t require dressing. A duck looks so cozy on a platter. comicbooks.com