Judge, 1926-01-16 · page 8 of 36
Judge — January 16, 1926 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page Analysis This page satirizes the Florida real estate boom of the 1920s through multiple pieces mocking predatory land sales practices. **"Remarkable Real Estate Value"** inverts typical real estate advertising by honestly describing shoddy construction—homes made of grape-box wood with curling trim, uneven floors, and wrapping-paper roofs. The joke: this brutal honesty contradicts the deceptive marketing that actually characterized Florida developments. **"On the Road to Tampa Bay"** and the cartoon showing a realtor urging construction completion before demolition mock the speculative frenzy, where developers rapidly built and demolished to inflate property values and resale opportunities. **"Florida True Story"** presents a confession about a quarter-acre purchased for twenty cents years ago. When the narrator finally visits "Malaria Zephyrs" (a fictional name satirizing the disease-prone swamplands), a stranger immediately attempts multiple sales schemes—offering to buy it for $90,000 with options—despite the narrator's obvious ownership. The cumulative message: Florida land sales involved systematic deception targeting naive investors, with speculators profiting from worthless property through aggressive, duplicitous tactics.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Remarkable Real Estate Value As It Should Be Advertised. We Sug- gest Our Cash and Carry Homes Wis made of best grape box- wood, guaranteed to support three pictures. Surbases will absolutely curl after three weeks. You go upstairs at your own risk. Well ventilated due to the way they were built. Super quality wrapping paper roofs. Remarkably uneven floors. Near station, near stores, near falling down. You can’t touch these homes— safely. You won't go wrong here If you buy elsewhere. George A. Paravicini On the Road to Tampa Bay Can't you hear the salesmen talkin’ from St. Pete to Ybor? Say, Come you back to Tampa Bay Where the options always pay, And the price goes up like thunder on the stuff from day to day! Rasp Reattor—Hurry up and get this building finished—we' ve gotta tear it down and put up a bigger one! FUNNYBOVES, They sold him the land for a song and they called it Tosti’s Good Buy! a ‘Uudge pays $5 for each one printed “Poor old Bill, who has been writing us all those exultant letters from Florida, describing the beauties of the climate and the joys of the life, has just died of sunstroke in Miami.” Florida True Story A Confession I ownED—or did up to yesterday— about a quarter of an acre of land on the outskirts of Malaria Zephyrs, a bustling little Florida village of seven millon souls, according to the real estate pamphlets. Twenty-two years ago it had been bought for twenty cents by an enemy of mine who died and willed it to me in the hope that some time I might be forced to live there. I had been keeping the deed and title to the property in my stamp box for years, expecting some visiting friend to steal it. What took me to Malaria Zephyrs besides a train, I can’t say, but I landed about a month ago, bought some boots, and started out to look my estate over. I didn’t see any- thing like seven million people on the streets, but then I soon guessed they were all playing golf. And my day started off when I asked a stranger to direct me to the property. He was very obliging throughout the conversation; first he offered to sell it to me for sixty thousand cash, and then when he found out I owned it, he offered to buy it for ninety thou- sand and put up a thousand cash for a thirty day option. He took my comicbooks.com