Judge, 1923-03-17 · page 3 of 36
Judge — March 17, 1923 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Magazine Page (March 14, 1923) The main cartoon titled "Unsympathizer" depicts an Irishman refusing to buy a shamrock or wear green for St. Patrick's Day, claiming he won't participate "from envy, yer little shrimp!" The joke satirizes Irish-American ethnic pride and holiday observance, suggesting reluctance to participate in traditional Irish identity markers. The page also contains literary content including Edward W. Barnard's poem "Hokum, Bunkum and Blaa," which repeatedly uses those three words as a refrain—apparently mocking or lampooning something the author considers nonsensical or fraudulent, though the specific target remains unclear from this excerpt alone. The overall tone suggests satire directed at contemporary social pretenses and false sentiment.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
war 14 1923 @uss572211 WITH WHICH IS COMBINED LESLIE’S WEEKLY “There once were two cats of Kilkenny, Each thought there was one cat too many; So they scratched and they bit, and they fought and they fit Until sare for their nails and the tips of their tails, Instead of two cata there weren't any.” “Ge ; Liberty and the pursuit of ‘Happiness The Inevitable by Gardner Rea \> THE yon the bench beside me f% withdrew his left hand from his pocket, I was amazed to note that it was fingerless. As all knowledge, according to Plato, begins in wonder, I leaned over. “Perhaps it’s none of my busines ventured, “but—” “The sorrow one feels in others’ mis- fortunes,” replied my neighbor gently, “is bound to well forth in curiosity It’s very good of you to be interested.” I hastened to put him at his ease. “Not at all,” I said genially. For a moment he gazed at me thought- fully, then his frame shéok with sup- pressed emotior “It was my youngest,” he said simply. “Baby.” s you probably know,” he explained, “the one passion of childhood is for repe- tition, A child can never get enough of a thing he likes—though just what he may choose to like is unforeseeable. Before the most expensive of mechanical devices he may remain cold, whereas a chance twirl of your Adam's apple may enthrall him forever. And if you fail to repeat—” Again his frame shook, and in silence that followed, I bent closer. “But your—er—?” “One day,” he said simply, “I happened to hammer a finger in the sight of baby. He liked it.” the Unsympathizer—Why should I buy Kriss—Wouldn’t they rent Short one of the apartments? Kross—No. He met with a flat re- fusal. sae ‘What are you working for?” home for the feeble-minded.” hat ought to get plenty of support in Congress.” tae “Tommy, what sort of a present do you think your sister would like for her birthday?” “Well, Ma’s givin’ her a razor and Pa’s givin’ her cigarettes—you might try a pair of dice!” tae Howard—They his bride in a glass case. Jay—Yes, she still has her job selling movie tickets. Schuyler keeps tae Flubb—What gives you the impression that Dobbs has lived in New York only a short time? Dubb—He can rattle off the name and location of every public statue in the city! a shamrock or wear green? Irishman—From envy, yer little shrimp! Hokum, Bunkum and Blaa by Edward W. Barnard (Hoping E. F. N° FRIEND of this trio am I, a And yet wheresoever I go Tartuffish and smirking and smug They wait in a sinister row. They simper and pose on the stage, They preach and they prose on the won't notice!) screen, And, lest you should flounder in doubt, The names of the trio I mean Are Hokum, Bunkum, And Blaa! It’s plain I am under their spell, They have me, it’s clear, on a string! I read a new book and I At last here’s a genuine thing! But short my complacency’s span, I learn at the end of the week, With wonder and shame-faced chagrin, From a lengthy and learned critique, It’s Hokum, Bunkum, And Blaa! The Morning Star's leader to-day Says things that no sharp could rebut, ’*Twas—so we commuters agreed— As sound and eet as a nut. But here in the Evening Gazette The nightly dispenser of Makes mock at a better man’s stuff And tells us that all that it is, Is Hokum, Bunkum, And Blaa! My pencils are dusty and dull, My pen is a stranger to ink, I’ve come to the point where I fear To set down the thoughts that I think. For when I have poured out my soul In a sonnet that gladdens and glows, It isn’t a poem at all, It’s—ask anybody that knows— Just Hokum, Bunkum, And Blaa! tae “This free verse is getting harder to understand every day.” “You are reading the chess problems, my boy.” comicbooks.com