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Judge, 1923-02-24 · page 9 of 36

Judge — February 24, 1923 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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Judge — February 24, 1923 — page 9: Judge, 1923-02-24

What you’re looking at

# Analysis: "Ballades of a Dub" Page This Judge magazine page satirizes **Prohibition-era frustration**. The main poem "My Locker Holds No Hootch at All" laments the inability to keep alcohol in one's locker, naming specific Scotch whiskeys (Old Tom, Peter Dawson's, Haig and Haig, King William's) that are now forbidden. The speaker nostalgically contrasts Scotland's former "amber loveliness" with his current dry circumstances, concluding he must emigrate to find alcohol. The illustration shows two well-dressed men outside what appears to be a hotel or establishment, with one captioning "Just look at Rockefeller! He's got more money than the both of us put together"—likely suggesting wealth allows circumventing Prohibition's restrictions. The "Scooty Blear" golf column uses Scottish dialect to make satirical observations about golfers and celebrities, including a joke about John D. Rockefeller's wealth. Together, these pieces mock Prohibition's enforcement while suggesting the wealthy could still access forbidden liquor.

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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Ballades of a Dub by A. N.C, Fowler My Locker Holds No Hootch at All Ww"s I have done a round or so ; it is quite a blow To try ve my thirst allayed With seltzer or an orangeade When Scotch should really have the call; But laws sometimes must be obeyed My locker holds no hootch at all. give Old Tom a show displayed Vd like to Again to be (a With Peter Dawson's Curio. Within my locker’s secret shade Where Haig and Haig was eke arrayed In luring ranks against the wall; Plain thirst is now my stock in trade My locker holds no hootch at all. The old Scotch game, they say? Where is the Scotch that once was made In amber loveliness to flow And cheer us with its rich cascade Before reform made us To tackle any kind of King William’s but a once-dear shade— My locker holds no hootch at all. L’Envoi Scotland, now my course is laid Hoots! Towards your moist shores that will en- Too long, Sahara, have I stayed— My locker holds no hootch at all. Rey I ® 1s one of those fellows who look upon golf as being an excuse for exercising old men. Driving through the links of the country club one day with a companion he stopped his car when he found that a Sunday morning golfer was about to drive from a green some distance to the right. His companion urged him tu drive on, saying: “That ball won't come in this diree- I don't “That bird might knoc te know,” said the skeptic, a foul.” “Is Bossler still persisting in writing scenarios?” es, but not in the same place; he has been moved to a new asylum.” Sat “This distinguished gent says his mar- ried life is a friendship.” “Well, that’s something.” And come in feeling somewhat Drawn by Wataten Véuiteiman, “Just look at Rockfeller! put together.” Scooty Blear by CW. Myers ee * indoor equal tae aboot ane an’ ane-half per cent, * *# « Samuel Blythe is th? champion 0” th’ duffers—as a writer, 0” coorse: Th’ fault a dentist wha tak’s oop gawf naturally develops is a pull. . + * TW Sarazen wa’ o” haudin’ a gawf cloob scems tae hae a firm grip oon mony gawfers noo. * « « I soospect. that John D. Rockefeller wadna gie a hair for ony game but gawf. * 8 8 Mony players are usin’ steel shafts in thir clubs noo. When asbestos gawf ba’s mak’ thir appearance there shad be little awf is He's got more money than the both of us Soome gawfers strive tae improv game by imitatin’ th’ leadin’ profe TW’ ither day I stuck a four-leaf clover in my month an’ tried tae play like Jim - Barnes. I dinna e’en doun in th’ 8os. * * * When it comes tae a settlement atween th’ French an’ th’ Germans, I wonder if it will end in Ruhr back. * * If trees cad talk, mony o* them growin? in th’ rough micht be careless aboot thir language. © & « Onyhoo, we shad be thankfu’ that Henry rd dinna choose as a career th’ manufacture o” cigars for th’ Christmas trade. * * * I ken 0” some foursomes that ilka day tin’ slawer an’ slawer. * * * An optimist i r wha lays his hag doun at th’ open end facin’ th’ opposite direction, an’ hopes somebody will shoot a ba’ intae it. golf course ain't all beer and skittles I