Judge, 1919-09-06 · page 5 of 36
Judge — September 6, 1919 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of "Ain't Angie Awful!" This is a serialized humor piece satirizing a character named Angela Bish through exaggerated romantic misadventures. The illustration shows Angela in a nightgown receiving a gentleman caller at 7 A.M.—an improper hour suggesting scandal or poor judgment. The satire targets young women's behavior and romantic pursuits in the early 20th century. Angela is portrayed as incompetent at courtship despite her interest in marriage. The text emphasizes her inherited lack of intelligence ("double-zero intellect") and describes comic domestic mishaps—a comforter under the bed, strange sounds from the English Channel. The humor relies on period attitudes mocking women's intelligence and romantic aspirations, presenting Angela's failures as inherently amusing rather than sympathetic.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Tee FERE~A Wr SOS Axcena Was in a Quaxpary—Harpty a Proper Costume ix Waicn to Receive A GeNtLeman at Seven A. M. Ain’t Angie Awful! Being the Love Affairs of Angela Bish A Serial in x Chapters Satirizing the Prevailing Sex Stories By Geverr Burcess Ilustrated b V. Tue Apventure or tHe Dump Deceiver ‘T seventeen, most girls you know know little, so little they little know how little they know If you don’t believe this, try it on your piano. Angela Bish inherited her double-zero in- tellect from her father who, before his vac- cination was a middle-aged mud-eater of the Orinoco. However little she knew, however, she knew she knew little. And this she had acquired by painful inexperi- ence, Angie had never thought of anything less important than marriage, if anything can be less important. But marriage had never taken Angie seriously. It had never taken her at all. It had only winked at her, like a blueheaded fireman on a hose cart, as it hartled past. And yet Angie wasn’t bad looking, really. Why should she be? She wasn’t really bad. Her black eyes curled naturally, and her hair was heavily plated with gold. Why then did men shun her as if she were taking up a collection for the Crown Prince? In the endeavor 1o solve this mystery she went to great lengths, often as far as Flatbush, in the pursuit of a man—only to have him turn at bay and bite her in the elbow. Rea Irvin One day, and, curiously enough it happens to be the very day of which we are speaking, Angie awoke with a presentiment that her luck had changed. It wasn’t merely that she found a comforter on the bed with her She was used to that; and besides its patchwork was too old and ragged to comfort her any longer. No, it was an uneasy, seasick feeling that there was somebody under the bed. Why, otherwise, should her mattress be heaving up and down as if she were crossing the English Channel in a rowboat? Also, strange, muted sounds came from amidships, and the springs sprang, as if Father were searching for a collar button or a lost will. Now, although to Angie it all seemed too good to be true, the prudish may consider it too true to be good But, at all events, the facts, like the person under the bed, must come out. And so, after removing a few old shoes, an adding machine and a cat's coffin, Angie beheld grinning at her a handsome face and foot. Atleast he was handsome to Angie—any man would be, were he grinning at her. Usually they frowled and asked her bitterly if she were a relic of the Great War. Despite the happiness that had thus come into her