Judge, 1924-06-07 · page 3 of 37
Judge — June 7, 1924 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Judge" Page Analysis: "Pan" (1924) This page presents a satirical poem by P.W. about Pan, the Greek mythological figure of nature and pleasure. The poem's narrator—once a carefree Pan promoting "youth's enjoyment"—has become a "morals censor," lamenting how restrictions have ruined innocent pleasures. The accompanying illustration depicts a chaotic car crash scene, with the caption "Why do they call them pedestrians?" The satire targets 1920s moral reform movements, particularly Prohibition and conservative backlash against youth culture. Pan represents pre-regulation freedom; his transformation into a "morals censor" mocks the era's restrictive policies. The pedestrian joke likely critiques dangerous automobiles and reckless driving—suggesting that moralizing busybodies create actual hazards while policing innocent enjoyment.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE (1924 Version) Time Gui the woods in springtime straying, On my pipes Pd wander playing In those happy. happy days of yore. Now, all day T get the itches In this de ne coat and breeches; They took away the leopard skin I wore. And my pipes that used to waken All the woodland have been taken Because it’s claimed that musie’s bad for man. Once I was joy’s chief dispenser, Now [am a morals censor: Who on earth would know that Tam Pan? Refrain But the darned thing is true, 'm Pan. T pan everything that Tecan. T pan what you think, Your food and your drink, Whatever you cherish T ban T censor your dramas, Your sox and py; The ways of a maid with a man You can't lead your own life Or mislead your own wife. What an oil-can they've made out of Pan! Once my innocent employment Was promoting youth's enjoyment. Gee! but Twas busy night and day Now, awake, or when you're sleeping T come round on tiptoe peeping Just Lo sce my precepts you obey. When young folks in spring stroll talking, T make sure they keep on walking, If Thad my way I'd see they ran ut black bat T hover Over every maid and lover. You'd never guess this poor old bum was Pan Refrain But the darned thing is true, ’'m Pan. [ pan everything that [ can. I pan what you say, What you do night and day, Whatever you cherish [ean I pan every pleasure, Your and your leisure, T crab every joy known to man If T could Vd forbid Every darned thing you did. What an oil-can they've made out of Pan! Ps W Why do they call them pedestrians?