Judge, 1919-09-27 · page 11 of 36
Judge — September 27, 1919 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Forgetting" by Walt Mason (Judge Magazine) This page presents a humorous essay-poem arguing that willful forgetfulness is the path to contentment. The illustration shows a fat, cheerful man sitting atop a pile of money, playing a lyre while a thin, anxious figure gestures in agitation beside him. The satire targets early 20th-century American anxieties: political corruption ("statesmen are disgusting"), economic instability ("the government is busting"), and apocalyptic worrying ("things are bound to burst"). Mason's speaker advocates deliberate indifference—refusing to dwell on betrayals (a man named Bill Wax swindled him), government scandals, or neighbors' panic. The joke is the contrast between active fretting and passive comfort. While others sweat and worry about coming chaos, the protagonist remains "fat and sassy" by simply choosing not to care. The illustration emphasizes this: prosperity through selective amnesia versus anxiety-ridden poverty. It's escapist satire mocking both pessimistic doomsayers and the speaker's own complacent hedonism.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Au, We Aut 1 Never Let Him Disturs Me axo My Lyre; I Pass Up ano Forcet Him ano His Visions Dire Forgetting By Warr Mason Illustration by Rate Barton in world of fretting, and weariness and woe, the best thing is forgetting—the finest gift we know, My life has reached December, and this much I will say: I’m glad IT can’t remember the things of yesterda: The sun of life is setting, and as it downward swings, I spend my time forgetting all kinds of useless things. For what's the use recalling unpleasant word or deed, privations that were galling, or pipe-dreams gone to seed? They only bring dej and chafe our weary souls; I'm glad my recollection is all shot full of holes. Bill Wax has wrought me evil, he soaked me and repeat; he sold a lot of weevil when I had paid for wheat. And I might sit up brooding, and plotting vengeance, too; but vengeance is deluding, and merely makes one blue. And I might tell the neighbors a weary tale of woe, and interrupt their labors until they'd wish I'd go. For long weeks I might let it bring briny to my eyes; but lo, I just forget it, and go and swat some flie: The government is busting, men tell me, every ¢ and statesmen are disgusting, the things they do and say. New crises come each morning, and each one is the worst; each ¢ brings forth its warning that things are bound to burst. I my neighbors sweating and pawing of the air, while I keep on forgetting, in my nice padded chair. With them I might go ranting, some worn-out rag to chew; what good would all my panting and my perspiring do? If we are truly headed for chaos, broken loose, the crash will find me bedded, and snorirg like the deuce. The nervous boys are betting on anarchy and such, while I sit here forgetting all ills, to beat the Dutch. Forever more the prophet is rearing up to cry that things are bound for Tophet, and Doom is drawing night. Ah, well, I never let him disturh me and my lyre; I pass up and forget him and all his sions dire. And [am fat and sassy, my eye is clear and bold; and people say I'm classy for one so beastly old; though life has reached December I’m chipper as a steer, because I don't remember the things men dread and fear. I'm old, but I don’t let it leave nerves of mine unstrung; I chortle and forget it, and fancy I am young. Forgetting things unpleasant has made my life so I am at present a blithe old evergreen. And I can frolic, and eat my share of cakes until I have the colic, and whip my weight in snakes. At night I sleep as sweetly as when I was a child, for I forget completely the things that drive men wild It is a world of sorrow, where bosoms ache and bleed; and we are fools to borrow more trouble than we need. It is a world of fretting. of worry, fuss and stew; the solace is forgetting, so let's forget a few and ce and