Judge, 1920-12-25 · page 3 of 33
Judge — December 25, 1920 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Ye Lady-Motorist's Tale" This is a humorous story-poem by Arthur H. Folwell about early women automobile drivers. The illustration depicts a woman in a motorcar with a male passenger, both dressed in period costume suggesting a mock-medieval "Canterbury Pilgrims" narrative style. The satire targets early-1920s attitudes toward female motorists—likely mocking both women drivers themselves and male anxieties about them. The poem's dialogue references automotive complaints: tire problems, brake mechanics, gear/ignition issues, and carburetors. The humor appears to derive from portraying a woman driver as ignorant about cars while chattering endlessly about technical matters she doesn't understand—a common stereotype of the era. The "Canterbury Pilgrims" framing adds mock-literary pretension to the satirical jab.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
OcB4ssysi =e Volume 79 $7.00 a Year JUDGE “THE HAPPY eMEDIUM” New York, Decemper 25, 1920 Number 2 15 cents a Copy 1 Weekly by Leslie-J ifth Avenue, New Yor! mpany Ye Lady-Motorist’s Tale | Being a Hitherto Unpublished Adventure of the Canterbury Pilgrims By Artur H. Fouwet ACK on the road which led fi London d In Chaucer's time, to Canterbury town, There came a flivver, driven by a ma In search of some one in the blacksmith’s trade. When “Honest Giles’ Garage” at length she spied, with sweet relief that maiden sighed, les approaching from his doorway d hus she poured her story forth to him: “Odspluts, good man! And eke odsdevilkins! ‘Though these be words by maidens seldom used, May I do double penance for my sins If I have ne scurvily abused. | As down ye pike from South’ark town I sped, | A crowd of Pilgrims filled ye road ahead; And I did’st join them, gi |p And riding with them on their holy way. | A tale each told, and soon it fell to me y stint to please ye companic. est; I told ye dames and squires How far I'd gone on this one sct of tires; | i I caused ye time most pleasantly to pas | By telling of ye mileage on y In great detail; of course, What other cars per galle I talked perhaps an hour or Them comprehend the beauti I spoke of clutches, gears, ignition, cranks, Sparks, carbureters, chains—but got no thanks The Pil all rode silent, all save one, A surly churl who cried: ‘Odsblooms' She’s done! If that’s what we must listen to each day ‘Then I’m a Pilgrim—by some other way Wh he others, making this their cue, My flivver down a bumpy hillside threw And as, upon their road, they turned to go, y: rims whooped, “Are we downhear jug > to make ' No!" “Alas,” quoth Honest Giles, “I’m sore afraid You talked too much about ye car, sweet maid Not everyone’s concerned as much as you In what your fliv is made of or can do. You motorists must learn without a d That there are other things to talk a ‘This was in 1300. Ir ‘That motor-owners hav "t learned it yet COMIeHOokS.com