Judge, 1920-12-04 · page 13 of 32
Judge — December 4, 1920 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Sorts of Fun" by Walt Mason This is a humorous essay contrasting two rival philosophies of leisure. The narrator is a man who loves reading adventure novels beneath a tree, while his acquaintance Johnson prefers outdoor pursuits—hunting, hiking, and physical exertion. The piece gently satirizes both approaches: Johnson thinks the narrator is lazy and foolish for sedentary reading; the narrator considers Johnson's exhausting activities pointless. Women in the story represent a middle path, enjoying both social picnics and intellectual pursuits. The underlying message is characteristically American progressive-era optimism: in a free country, different people can pursue happiness differently without judgment. The phrase "freedom's banner is waving over every guy" emphasizes individual liberty to choose one's own amusements—whether books or outdoor adventure—as long as nobody spoils another's fun. The illustration shows a domestic scene, likely depicting the contrast between indoor and outdoor leisure activities discussed in the text.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Sorts Mlustration b SIT before my lowly hovel, where elm-trees throw their grateful shade, and there I read a corking novel, in which brave men through bloodshed wade. I have my trusty pipe beside me, a jug of buttermilk is near; no kind of bliss has been denied me—I am as happy as a steer. Oh, Lam glad and in my glory, the world looks mighty good ath a to me, when I have got a ripping story to read be spreading tree. And Johnson thinks my fun is silly, unprofitable, flat and stale; he likes to climb a landscape hilly, and hunt a rabbit or a quail, I've seen him start when dawn was breaking, when wise men slumbered in their tents, returning late, all worn and ach- luck worth fourteen cents. And through the win- ing, to show « ter snow he tn jeers at one who never budges from easy c Iges. and freezes whiskers, ears und L never have abroad skedaddled with shot flat, | think that Johfhson’s brains are addled, th finds fun in toil like that. And Johnson thinks that I am dotty, to sit around all day and read a lot of novels vain and naughty, turned out by authors. gone to seed. The land we live in’s free, however, we roast no man for what he’s done, just so he makes no fool endeavor, to spoil the other fellow’s fun. So [let Johnson ing a thousand versts, in search of quail, and he lets me continue lamping the pages of of Fun By Wart Masox Raven Barros AT BENEATH YOUR TREE; COME EAT A PIE BESIDE THE SEAL some bloodstained tale. And we're good friends, and borrow dollars, as true men should, when we are broke; we grin a bit but neither hollers though Uother’s fun may seem a joke. The women pack their baskets daily for picnic stunts, a merry throng; they come to me and ask me gayly to dump my books and go along. They speak to me with much emotion they bore me with their gladsome spiel I by the ocean where we will have a joy along!” s ‘too long you Ip pack the lunch, for ¢ e the sea I see them going in the mornin; ways; their past exploits should be a warning, but they forget There is a cove « us meal, Oh, cc at beneath your ain, come cat a pic 's one fine woman besi all yesterdays. And they come homeward in the gloa blistered by the sun; their lips are ¢ combing—and they look on this thir And [ have sat, in mood reflective, beneath the tree, the long hours through, reat detective, and of a dd and ir nee und read about some hairpin as a clew And I sce people fiercely playing all sorts of games that make them sweat; they wouldn't use such vim at haying, or whacking cordwood up, you bet This is the land where freedom’s banner is waving over every nt in his special manner select his pastime, so guy; let each ¢ say I