Judge, 1919-10-18 · page 7 of 36
Judge — October 18, 1919 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Political and Social Satire in Judge Magazine **The Main Cartoon:** An elderly man ("Old Fogy") attempts to escape modernity by fishing in a pastoral setting, fantasizing about the previous century without "Bolshevism, no strikes, no Plumb plan, no telephones, no automobiles." His reverie is immediately shattered when someone shouts "look at the airplane!"—symbolizing that progress and modern disruptions are inescapable, even in nature. **The Context:** This reflects post-WWI anxieties (references to Bolshevism suggest early 1920s), when traditional Americans feared rapid social change: labor unrest (strikes, the Plumb Plan for railroad nationalization), technological acceleration, and socialist ideology. **The Satire:** The cartoon mocks nostalgic conservatism as futile—you cannot hide from the modern world, no matter how hard you try. The page also contains miscellaneous lighter pieces (poems about baldness, domestic life snippets) typical of Judge's mixed-content format.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
| ne f(y iy lg c he ul 3 tp Drawn by J. Conacuen Old Fogy— Ah, well, this is mighty pleasant. One might be in the middle of the last century here. No Bolshevism, no strikes, no Plumb plan, no telephones, n> automobiles, no— Voice from the other bank—Hey, Mister, Mister!—look at the airyplane! izi i i Let him imagine football fields, Baie & Ys © g hs Himself the hero of the fray; By A. Wavter Urtixc y a wig—to me this yields The poet sighs in soulful strain, Disrupted by the morbid mumps; He feels, protruding through his mane, Or, better yet, have at his side Bald bumps. A faithful wife to share his care, And pull, when Pegassus he'd ride, He groans in agony. For where Her hair. His fingers erstwhile mocked and mauled In the recesses of his hair, Nothing in Common He’s bald. “Mrs. Nockum and I passed a perfectly stupid afternoon; no community of interests, and our conversation fell flat.” He asks, as noting how his lawn “T see; of course! You don’t know her neighbors and she Is bared, “Where locks of yesterday?” never heard of yours.” Alas, he trembles; they have gone Away. Hopeful Carr—Why are you compelling your son to read the peace How can he catch the Muse unless treaty and the league of nation’s covenant? His fingers softly trickle thick Barr—He may become a senator when he grows up, and it Through head of hay? Well, I'll confess will be helpful to him in the Senate’s discussion of the docu- One trick: ments.