Judge, 1925-04-11 · page 12 of 36
Judge — April 11, 1925 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Explaining This Judge Magazine Page This 1920s satirical piece mocks the gap between advertising promises and reality. The main article, "Not as Advertised," follows a husband who literally follows product advertisements' claims—buying stewed corn expecting his wife to smile angelically, pouring boiling water on his floor to demonstrate the durability of "Iron Crust" varnish. She's furious. The joke: advertisements show idealized scenarios disconnected from actual human behavior and consequences. The accompanying "Damon and Pythias" section parodies how advertisers would exploit even ancient legends of friendship, inventing absurd product endorsements (rubber heels, garters, watches, gasoline) to capitalize on any cultural reference. The bottom cartoon mocks a desperate jobseeker with a hole in his pants asking a sandwich vendor for work advice—commenting on economic hardship and social degradation. The overall satire criticizes aggressive early-20th-century advertising's manipulative dishonesty and consumers' naive faith in marketing claims.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Why not gite the kalitosis victim a chance to make good as payroll messenger? Not as Advertised AS T have said before I am a great reader of theadvertisements,and to-day I resolved to try the effect of some of my learning on my wife. So I brought home a can of stewed corn. In the picture, when the husband brings his wife a can of this particular brand of stewed corn she is always holding out her hand for it with a smile like an angel on her face, but my wife struck the can to the floor. tewed corn!” she cried angrily. “What ever possessed you to buy stewed corn?” My wife’s actions were a distinct shock to me. There was nothing in the advertisement showing just what to do in such a situation. But I would not give up. Taman advertisement fan. So I seized the teakettle from the stove and with a flourish I commenced turning the scalding water onto the floor. “See,” I cried, happily, “see—see! It can't hurt the floorm—we used Iron Crust varnish!” My wife seized the kettle from my hands and swung it back on the stove. “Have you gone completely bug- house!” she cried. “Get the mop and wipe up that water, you crazy loon!” So I moped up the water thought- fully. Something surely was wrong. My faith in the advertisements was beginning to weaken. But I tried one final attempt to right myself. “Remember,” I said. “Remember the day I saw the advertisement of the Rational Correspondence School? I was just a humble laborer then! Appearance of any American if all the brands of cigarettes are consumed in the numbers that their advertise- ments claim. Tim Dooley laughed at me. He wouldn't enroll. I did!” “Yes,” she cried, her eyes blazing with fury, “and it would have been a darn sight better if you had stuck with Tim Dooley—you're straddling a chair in an office at $35 a week, and he’s getting $16 a day laying brick!” I don't understand it. I did every- thing as the advertisements say, but I did not get the results, Just a case of where my advertising didn’t pay. William Sanford Damon and Pythias Ir Damon and Pythias had staged their little friendship act in modern times, the advertising copy writers would have turned loose some real art: “Pythias Used Our Rubber Heels and Got There on Time.” “Pythias Says Daily Diet of Yeast, Dates, Raisins and Prunes Enabled Him to Run Without Fatigue. Order Yours To-day.” “Where Would Damon Have Been If Pythias’ Garter Had Broken? Let Us Sell You a Pair Like Pythias Wore.” “Pythias Carried One of Our Dollar Watches; That's How He Arrived on Time.” “Pythias Averages Thirty-four Miles to the Gallon on Famous Syracuse Run; Yes, He Used Sparko Gasoline.” Chet Johnson fas It isn’t only dead men who leave wives. Sanpwicuman—Ho! Rotten job, is it? Mebbe you can think of a better job fer a man wot's got a hole in the seat of his pants? comicbooks.com