Judge, 1925-07-11 · page 12 of 36
Judge — July 11, 1925 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of This Judge Magazine Page This page contains three distinct pieces satirizing 1920s social conventions and workplace dynamics: **"Backward, Turn Backward!"** mocks nouveau-riche hostesses attempting absurd "sophistication." The joke is that a naive guest literally follows instructions to walk backward into a party, then discovers the hostess has arranged everything backwards—guests sit on tables eating off chairs, courses served in reverse order. The satire targets pretentious hosts trying too hard to be "different" and unconventional. **"How Was He to Know?"** is the primary story, which parodies workplace confession magazines (then popular). A young male bookkeeper fears his female boss Miss Mullen is exploiting his youth and inexperience. The setup suggests seduction, but the punchline reveals she merely wants him to take ledgers home to complete monthly statements—a mundane task. The satire inverts typical confession narratives where women are victimized; here, the man's anxiety over a simple work request is treated as melodramatic. **"Amateur Painter"** (bottom cartoon) shows a painter on a ladder with a painting challenge unrelated to the page's themes. The overall effect ridicules both excessive workplace formality and overwrought romantic anxieties in modern business life.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Backward, Turn Backward! Took in some party the other night. My invitation read “Come about nine and please walk in back- wards!” Being a simple lad, I followed my hostess’ directions re- ligiously and backed ‘right up to where she stood in the living-room. “So glad you could come,” she murmured sweetly. “Come again soon—good night!” I turned to leave, somewhat be- wildered, when a butler approached with a tray of liqueurs and an orches- tra burst forth somewhere, so I decided to stick around! After a dance with a bored young flapper dinner was announced so we made for the dining-room and discovered that our places were laid on the chairs, and that everybody was sitting on the edge of the table and eating off of said chairs. However, I was ready to do anything for food so we sat down, or rather sat up, and were served with finger bowls! Then came a demi-tasse, ice cream and canteloupe, salad, chicken and right back through the soup to the hors d’euvres and many rounds of cocktails! Ye gods, I wish these hostesses wouldn't try to be so different. I've been going back- wards ever since! The Six Best “Steppers.” “April Fool.” “Romantic You.” “Yes, Sir! She’s My Baby.” “Ukulele Lady.” “Madeira.” “What a World This Would Be.” Gry How Was He to Know? (Why Limit the Confessional Magazine Stories to Female Employees Only?) Hexesone Hank Hanlon, book- keeper for the Lady Godiva Iron Foundries, entered the back room of Hennessey’s Idle Hour Saloon and threw down his 180 pounds of brawn and muscle into one of Hennessey’s chairs. On his face was a look of surprise—almost of anguish. “She's got no right to ask it of me,” he sobbed, referring to Miss Mullen, head of the bookkeeping department at the foundry, “I'm just out of business college and she is taking advantage of my youth and inexperience.” He called for a whisky and soda which he gulped, but even with the aid of two highballs he could not quite pull himself together. He rested his head on his arms and A é AmateuR Parster—Now, the thing is, to climb down that ladder so 4 I can reach the floor to give it a coat. his soul went through agonies known only to innocent young men in the cruel business world. Finally, he raised his head and whispered, “If it will mean better clothes, little enjoyments here and there, or a few little luxuries that every boy craves, I will give in to her. She can have her way with me. I'm ignorant of the things she knows.” And, late that afternoon, when everyone else had left, the door of Miss Mullen’s private office clicked shut and she held out her arms to Hank. Soft, white arms they were, too. | “To-night,” she softly whispered. “Yes, to-night,” answered Hank, taking from her outstretched arms two ledgers and a cash book. ‘“To- 4 te night I'll take these home and make up the monthly statements.” comicbooks.com