Judge, 1924-12-13 · page 13 of 36
Judge — December 13, 1924 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story satirizes Prohibition's failure through domestic comedy. A husband promises his wife Pearl he'll obtain an illegal alcoholic drink (the "pot of gold" at the rainbow's end), positioning himself as the "Dominant Male" who must prove his worth. He attempts to bribe a speakeasy doorman twice, invoking the Constitution's authority, but is rejected both times. He returns defeated—"I came, I saw and he conquered"—confessing failure. The punchline subverts expectations: his real problem isn't Prohibition enforcement but mundane reality—no theater seats available. The joke mocks both the era's widespread lawbreaking (husbands expected to obtain illegal liquor) and the gap between grand masculine ambitions and petty domestic reality. The page's header joke ("dry law seems to be all wet") reinforces the satire: Prohibition, intended to eliminate drinking, actually thrives underground.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The chief trouble with the dry law seems to be that it’s all wet. Teadge will pay 85 for Gach one printed The Knight that Failed P22 and I have been looking for- ward to this night for months. Every evening as I ran up to the door of our ivy-covered cottage, she had cheerily said: “Just a few weeks more, and then...” Well, here we were at last at the foot of our figurative rainbow. Would it yield a pot of gold or dank despair and disappointment? ntly, Pearl led me to the very threshold and then gave me a reassuring pat and a whis- pered, “I know you can't fail.” Clenching my bridge work and as- suming a determined air, I non- chalantly sauntered in. My pulse beat must have been over two hun- dred, and I could feel my knees quivering. I knew my time had come to prove I was the Dominant Male. In a few seconds, I stood before him. With an air of reckless bravado I made my demands—did it imperiously and firmly. He gave me a withering look which I never shall forget and roared “No!” I think a furtive tear was coursing down my cheek as I came back to Pearl—a failure. “Go again, darling,” she encourag- ingly whispered, “you know what the Constitution of the United State: ys. Look him in the eve. Good luck.” Once again I faced his cold, scow- ling countenance. Malevolently, he regarded me and a second time roared, “No! Didn't I tell you once?” Dejectedly, I returned to Pearl, broken in spirit. I had met the enemy and I was his. I came, I saw and he conquered. “Well, dear?” she questioned, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “Nothing doing, darling,” I whim- pered, “there isn’t a seat left in the orchestra.” Arthur L. Lippmann Don’t cross the bridge even when you come to it; you may find your- self in Brooklyn ‘Fudge will poy $5