Judge, 1925-06-13 · page 19 of 36
Judge — June 13, 1925 — page 19: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This humorous story by Arthur L. Lippmann satirizes the emerging "trade press" phenomenon of early 20th-century America. The narrator is repeatedly accosted by armed robbers who ask "How do you like your vegs?" — apparently a coded question or catchphrase. The final twist reveals the recurring robber is "Bill Brown," editor of *The Burglar's Journal*, a fictional trade magazine "devoted to the gentle art" of burglary, serving "cracksmen, gunmen, second-story workers and ticket speculators." The satire mocks the proliferation of specialized industry publications and the absurdity of criminals having their own professional journalism. The humor also plays on the narrator's literal interpretations and quick wit surviving dangerous encounters. The accompanying illustrations show domestic and street scenes depicting the encounters, emphasizing the story's comedic tone about this ridiculous "trade paper" legitimizing criminal enterprise.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
voice questioned again, “How de con like your veges “Ob, quite raw,” L blithely made clever reply. “There was once a traveling sales. man in search of a night’s lodging.” started the voice and as Twas bhish ing deeply at the point of the story. 1 Was again gently tapped on the skull and Teft for the milkinan to pick up. Toenight as [approach house, out of the Stygian blackness the vou win commanded ime te stop. DT could visualize that cold, lusiness-like revolver so L obediently paused and put my hands up. gently inquired the voice, but Twas too quick for him. Tn an instant L Sorry, Madam, but we sprang on him and beat him: inte a submission, In a menment LE had specialize only in breaks and fractures! A Butter-in Yegy Man I Was on my way home from the season's latest’ crook melodrama when [ felt a bit of cold steel pressed against my cheek and w grufl voice requested TE pause in my nocturnal walk. “How do you like your yegi questioned the voice. “Oh, hard-boiled,” L replied, mo- mentarily forgetting my delicate posi- tion. nan instant, I saw every star in the heavenly firmament, and when Tcame to, my watch, wallet and ring WETE BONE: “Say—you can't park that car there!” “Just a moment, officer, tll [give her a couple of rubs with this vanish- ing cream. Last night again Twas stopped on my way home. ‘This time the same thonghtlessly awakened two police. men from a sound sleep and they ran np with searchlights. ‘The light was flashed full on the highwaytnan’s face and Twas amazed to ne his high, intelligent fore “WI rander! “Pin Bill Brown, answe cringing, “Em the Inquiring I porter for The Burglar's Journal, the new trade-paper devoted to the gentle art and published in the in terest of erackst story workers and ticket speer Then he added, almost mecha “How do you like your yep But my crever wit saved me this time. “Tnever eat them.” Tshouted, as he scrambled to his feet. a figura. tive scrambled vegg. “Under the Spreading Chestnut Tree the Village Smithy Stands.” Arthur L. Lippmann comicbooks.com