Judge, 1921-02-19 · page 7 of 32
Judge — February 19, 1921 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page Analysis **The Cartoon:** Drawn by John Conecher, this depicts a social comedy scenario. A woman shows a man a donkey, then uses it as a conversation starter to introduce her husband—implying the husband is being compared (unfavorably) to the animal. The humor relies on the wife's backhanded insult, suggesting her spouse is as appealing or intelligent as a donkey. **The Articles:** The page contains three brief satirical pieces mocking early 20th-century social trends and attitudes: 1. A complaint about the overuse of female legs in advertising and illustration—legs appearing everywhere from streetcars to theater photos to magazine covers—the author finds this obsessive focus tiresome. 2. A poem about pessimism: the speaker wishes humans were made like cherubs (just heads and wings) to avoid life's material burdens, then realizes even wings would require maintenance. 3. A joke about the mystery of why people involved in scandals insist on being photographed in pajamas. These represent typical *Judge* humor: social observation mixed with light cynicism about modern advertising, fashion, and behavior.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Drawn by Joux Coxscnen “Wuar A NICE LITTLE Donkey!” “Yes, INDEED, IT 18 A DEAR LITTLE DONKEY—AND On! Mr. Jones, THAT REMINDS ME—I DON’T BELIEVE YOU NAVE MET aty HUSBAND.” graph, but what relation have they to tooth powder or window shade The legs are too much with us, late and soon. I come home from a walk on a windy evening feeling as though I had over- eaten of centipede stew. Legs have wriggled at me from street-car cards, twinkled across my vision from innumerable sign-boards, flickered and coruscated along my optic nerve from electric signs, and jumped out at me from the photo- graphs in front of the theaters. And real legs have encoun- tered my gaze at blowy corners and on street car and taxicab steps at every stop. When I reach my domicile I pick up a magazine to forget the phantasmagoria of legs—and find from a pair to cight on the cover, and inside a procession of them that trips gaily from story to story from ad to ad and exits by the back cover in a proclamation of the virtues of Milac Soap. I am uneasy because there is no unkneesy spot whither I can flee. We have reached the limit of extremities, and the motto of most of our artists is knee plus ultra. They appear to believe that the only cap girls set for men today is the knee cap But enough of bad puns. I merely wish to record my faint protest against this over-emphasis on the underpinning. Let us be careful lest our legacy to history be the impression that we were idolaters, universally worshiping the silken calf Pessimism By Mirnsam Tercuner CAN'T find a suit, and I can’t afford shoes, And I'm weary of things, piled on things. And I wish that we humans like cherubs were made— Just heads and a couple of wings. And still—when one just grew accustomed, I’m sure ‘o wings and their grooming and use, Mere keeping them clean would take all of one’s time, And haloes would cost like the deuce! Have You Noticed It? By S. Gorvox Gurwit It isa mystery tome. I've pondered the subject deeply, but I cannot find a solution—unless it is that the manufacturers hire people to do it to stimulate interest in their products. But that scems impossible on the face of it! Yet—how is one to account for the fact that people who get into a triangle affvire d’amour insist on being shot in pajamas? She Did Mr. Saphead—Do you ever think of me? Miss Kutting—Yes, but I'd hate to tell you what. comicbooks.com