Judge, 1921-04-16 · page 11 of 32
Judge — April 16, 1921 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Daily Problems" Analysis This is a satirical piece about the post-boom economic collapse, likely from the 1920s recession or early Depression era. The illustration shows a man in bed surrounded by creditors' faces emerging from darkness, labeled "BILL"—a visual metaphor for debt haunting him day and night. The text's narrator describes a cascading financial nightmare: during prosperous times, merchants freely extended credit ("No limit to your credit"). Now that "the boom went slumping," he's simultaneously chased by multiple creditors—baker, butcher, plumber, tailor, mechanic—all demanding payment. The irony is that he, in turn, chases others who owe him money (a painter, tinker). The satire targets both the recklessness of easy credit during boom times and the brutal consequences of economic collapse. It captures a common experience: an entire interconnected community trapped in a chain of unpaid debts with no escape, where everyone is simultaneously creditor and debtor. The piece critiques the merchant class for enabling unsustainable consumption.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“By THE PROBLEMS CHASE Daily P Day Illustration b them are LL kinds of problems face me, and most ¢ by night screams; by day the problems chase me they fill my dreams. My roll is growing smaller each day that I'm alive, and when I have a dollar I feel I should have And when I pay the baker for doughnuts, bread and pies the undertaker in ambush nearby lies. And he de bought at his store. for shrouds nt Celia wore five why, then mands the payment and other raiment my late Au When times were fat and splendid tick, and now times are ended, and 1 The butcher and the hatter pursue me down the road and fill The plumber ior gt I purchased things or. those are um feeling sick the air with chatter concerning debts I've owed and the tinner are ever on my trail. insisting I'm a sinner who ought to be in jail. The cobbler and the tanner are always after and in the rudest manner demand an X or V.. The greasy makes comes with a. gail ail me old mechanic titanic, and asks me for his mon And I pursue the painter who owes me for a lay. hope growing faint and fainter that he will ever pay. 1 chase the tinker, who owes me for an ode, and he, a slacking slinker, flees from me up the road. And T pursue the tailor whose rags inspired a song, but he’s a maudlin wailer who's stood me off who my auto run village for long. So cach of d all of us are is chasing the other fellow down ME, KY NIGHT THEY FILL Aty roblems By War \Masox Ravenu BARTON We all of us were trusted yand racing in anguich through the town when boom times swept the hills; now all of us are bustee can not pay our bills The to me, “We soon must be embarking for summer by the sea. And money we'll be needing, so have the same in hand, for Father Time is The Johnsons and the the Kershaws and the Vheir pls when days are overheated women were remarking just yesterd speeding to beat the village band Jimpsons will seck the western shore; Simpsons will travel east once more pleted, and still we'do not know just whither we shall go.” And even while they're talking the, baker's at the ge words are truly shocking. he has his grouch on straight. And while the ladies twitter of summers by the sea laundress, stern and bitter, is shoving bills at me. And while the girls are dreaming of billows white and blue the haberdasher’s screaming for coin long overc For months, when things were booming, our standoff was sublime; the merchants, smiling, blooming, would sell their goods on time. “No limit to your credit, just buy whate’er you please!” The merchant princes said it, they handed us that wheeze. And so we laid in plunder, bought doodads fit to kill, nd never paused to wonder just how we'd pay the bill And then the boom went slumping. and we beheld upon our collarbones. ns are all com with groans. the merchant princes jumpi comicbooks.com