Judge, 1923-11-10 · page 4 of 36
Judge — November 10, 1923 — page 4: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Magazine Page This page contains a short story titled "Prehistoric Enterprise" by John W. Kraft, illustrated with two scenes depicting domestic life humor typical of early-20th-century Judge magazine. The top illustration shows a crowded scene at what appears to be a train station or public venue, depicting a social encounter between characters. The dialogue and narrative concern a young mother with an infant named Lamech, who is nearly a year old. The bottom illustration shows a domestic scene where a nurse and children discuss going to the movies—one wants to see "Poisoned Lips" while another prefers "Why Women Fall." The humor relies on period-appropriate domestic situations and social commentary about modern entertainment and family life. The "prehistoric enterprise" title appears ironic, contrasting ancient themes with contemporary concerns about cinema and childcare.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Mother saw you kiss me last night, and she didn’t like it a bit.” “Well, she isn’t around here now, is she?” “ Ps !" screamed the irate wi s she burst into her husband's private office. “IT catch you patting your stenog- rapher on the che “You do, my d replied the hus- band, thinking ra “TI lost| my temper just a moment ago and swore in this young woman's preser She’s a nice girl, and I’m trying to keep her from crying.” “So nurse is taking you to the movies? “J wanted to see ‘Poisoned Lips,’ but Bobby wants to go to ‘Why Women Fall.’” “Cheer up, Ethel, your new beau may be good-lookii but remember, auty is only skin deep.’ ” Then he must have been skinned at birth.” rey “Oh, George, you broke my lavalliere.” “Heavens, Marie, lay down on the table, quick, and thank God I studied Chiropractic.” Prehistoric Enterprise by John W. Kraft HE AGENT for the Stone Hatchet Ga- zette tied his patient leviathan to a boulder with a double bowknot, set his hod bearing a few copies of the last issuc against a tree, picked out a particularly legible copy and went blithely up the steps to the cave of Mrs. Methuselah. “Good morning, madam. Am I ad- ng Mrs. Methulesah? me is Methuselah, not Me- she replied cold]. “T beg your pardon, madam. I wasn’t expecting to see such a young woman and you don’t mean to tell me that that is your baby.” “Oh, yes, that is little Lamech.” “Cunning little fellow! How old is Nincty-eight months old yesterday.” Has he any teeth?” “Not yet, but he’s been so dreadfully cross the last forty months I’m sure he must be cutting some.” “And you seem so young to be his mother. “Surely you can’t be a day over 200." Without waiting for a reply he pulled out his subscription book and in a moment she had signed her husband's name for a year’s subscription to. the Cave Man's Trade Review, The Iron Age and The Stoné Hatchet Gazette, with seventeen volumes of “Modern Civilization,” with hand chiseled illustrations thrown in. “Wifey, dear, I bought you a 100-piece dinner set to-day.” “Oh, goods wash dishes once Now T'll only have to a week.” What are you going to see?” comicbooks.com