Judge, 1919-08-23 · page 10 of 36
Judge — August 23, 1919 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Satire Explanation for Modern Readers This page from *Judge* satirizes how rapidly new words enter English vocabulary. The main piece, "Ruperthuggesome," parodies overwrought literary fiction by inserting contemporary political/cultural figures' names as verbs—a humorous critique of how modern language corrupts traditional prose. Examples visible include "senatorlodged," "burleson'd," "bolshevik," and "colonelharvey"—converting names into verbs to create absurd neologisms. Albert Burleson was Postmaster General under Wilson; the reference to "congressional-record country" suggests Prohibition-era government scrutiny. The surrounding short humor pieces mock contemporary social anxieties: a "Non-politic Admission" about doctor's bills, and a joke about incomprehensible three-letter monograms. The satire targets both rapid linguistic change and the pretentiousness of contemporary magazine fiction, suggesting that modern literature and politics have made even plain English incomprehensible.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
three years, you might speak of burleson! But why so pule? Have you been drinking?” “Drinking! In a congressional-record country! No! Geraldine, dear,” he went on popularmagazinedly, “I’m ill. Something I ate for lunch seems to have senatorlodged with me.” “Poor boy! dear boy!” she movingpictured her arms to him. “ My very own!” He snappystoriesed her to his breast and they clung together in one lingering cosmic robertwchambers His Suspicion “Did the Grudge Hyenas play ball with the home team here last Friday, as was expected?” asked the recently-arrived washing-machine agent, who had visited the hamlet some two weeks before. “Well,” replied the landlord of the Petunia tavern, “they arrived, and it was announced that they were going to play ball, but, from the way the score stood at the end of the game, I have sorter suspected ever since that they must have come over just to practice on our boys.” * Drawn by R.B. Penton Visitor—How do you like my singing, Vomim “Pretty well—but ve oughta hear me take a garyle.” ; A Non-politic Admission Physician—You had a pretty close call. It’s only your Rupert hu 4 hesome strong constitution that pulled you through. Patient—1 hope you will remember that when you make O the intelligent reader there is unfailing fascination — out tne bill in the readiness with which the English language absorbs new words. The speech of yesterday grows No One Can Read Them stale. Today's fact forms the vocabulary of tomorrow. Wit- Customer—And of course you will engrave a monogram on ness this chapter from the advance proof-sheets of a best-seller of 1921: Yes, ma’am. What initial Under the apple-tree by the old barn Geraldine awaited her Customer—Oh, just the usual three-letter monogram. lover. It was spring. An anxious mother hen bokk’d to her fluffy brood, while a rooster clapped his wings and creeled long and loud, more self-important than the weathercock on the barn that bakered to every wind. Ducks verslibred noisily, and a donkey thrust his head from the barn door and bryann’d inanely, ob livious to the overpowering hearst that rose from the dunghill. puppy whined germanly from his kennel “It isn't August yet.” said Geraldine. “I wonder if he can be going bolshevik?" At last Duane Olcott, her lover, came hurrying down the path. She rose and stood coldly aloof. “You?” she asked with newrepublic voice. You wilson yourself three years and then expect me to—" “Nothing pleases you,” he retorted. “You colonelharvey everything I do. I was burle son’d three hours by a blowout “Three hours! A mere Drown by S. Macwer en daayl Il you had’ wrecked “What did Mr. Flint give his wife for her birthday?” . yout tar, urléion’d Janoihe: “He took her to a store and told her to choose the best thing in the house. “a a ; “How lovely! Was it a jewe burleson’d that, and burleson’d “No, a five and ten cent ston comicbooks.com