Judge, 1920-01-24 · page 15 of 36
Judge — January 24, 1920 — page 15: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three satirical pieces reflecting early 20th-century American attitudes: **"In Extenuation"** presents a Southern dialect monologue where a man defends beating his son-in-law, using racist language and Southern vernacular stereotypes. The satire targets both racial prejudice and the absurdity of justifying violence through family grievances. **"A Prophecy"** by Strickland Gillilan mocks President Woodrow Wilson (the "exalted" figure referenced), predicting the next president will be neither a professor nor a Democrat—a jab at Wilson's academic background and Democratic affiliation. **"The Way It Looks"** offers cynical definitions of "the Human Race" from various political/social perspectives (politicians, radicals, socialists, trusts, labor unions), satirizing how different ideologies instrumentalize humanity for their agendas. The remaining brief jokes ("Modern Valuation," "Cautious") offer light social commentary on meditation and courtship customs. The page employs period-typical caricature and dialect humor that reflects Judge's satirical approach to politics and social criticism.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
In Extenuation By Tou P. Morcax a UILTY, Yo’ Honah!" stid old man Mauley. “Guilty, sth, but wid extermi- natin’ succumstances. I sho’ scrutinized dat nigger’s head wid muh cane, but I had muh reasons. Yassth, I done had muh reasons. In de fust place, sah, he’s muh son-in-law, which am engener’ly enough of itse’f. But to make de matter mo’ so, I was gwine down de street an’ met up wid de scoun’l uh-pom pousin’ along as big as life wid de Bishop. I made muh man ners an’ stopped to ‘spostulate wid de good man. De Bishop slowed up, an’ whispered to muh son-in-law: AE e, Brudder Yaw; ain't dis gen'leman some 0’ yo’ kinnery?’ “*No, sah,’ whispered muh son-in-law back. ‘He's merely dess nobody but a kin o’ muh wife.’ “Kin o' muh wifet’ An’ V'd been suppo'tin’ de varmint since de Lawd knows when! Uh-well, sth, I turned plumb ashy at dat, an’ I ups wid muh hick’ry an’ saturated his nappy head wid it like beatin’ a drum. An’ I reggin I'd uh-been right dar twell yet, sth, uh-hommerin’ his head, if de constable hadn’t ‘rived on de scenery an’ drug me loose fum him. An’ I leaves it to yo'se'f, Judge, if yo’ had a black rascal of a son- in-law, an’ he called yo’ merely a kin o’ his wife. wouldn't yo’ bust him, sah, an’ bust him good?” A Prophecy By Stricktann Giiuitax [™ 29 proph-et— Nay, nay, nor yet Am the son of any such. I have no spite At Woodrow—quite The reverse! I'll say as much. Dron by Ress Westover But I am here To play the seer For one exalted minute. And I will bet All I can get In any pool—and win it. Lo, this will be My prophecy— Correct me, if I err Next worthy gent To be presi-dent Won't be a profes—sir. This I will add (Till late I had Been standing very pat!): Next man to heat Drown by A. Macusren That envied seat Guest Won't be a Democrat! Both—I wish I could get that! By D. B. Vax Bure THe Human Race is: To the Politician: What the Small Boy catches in the brook with a wire noose. To the Radical: A shirt to be ironed down smooth. To the Egotist: A sheet of blotting paper to absorb his ideas. To the Socialist: A splendid subject for vivisection. To the Prohibitionist: A baby to be weaned. To the Trusts: A donkey that doesn’t know enough to kick. To the Labor Unions: Ditto, To Itself: An enigma. While the above are: To the Human Race: What boils were to poor old patient Job. To Men of Sense: D—— Modern Valuation Briggs—You seem meditative. Griggs—Yes. I was thinking. “Two cents for your thoughts.” Cautious Post—I say, old man, will you join our Big Brother Club? ’arker—Let’s see the girl I’m to be fraternal to first Can I get any liquid refreshment? Bellboy—No, sir; only tea or coffee. comicbooks.com