Judge, 1926-01-30 · page 9 of 36
Judge — January 30, 1926 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Magazine Page This page satirizes two distinct targets: **Main Article ("Prospectus"):** A humorous scheme to profit from winter by deploying St. Bernard dogs equipped with cognac kegs through Manhattan's streets. The narrator plans to charge stranded, drunk pedestrians fifty cents for access to alcohol—essentially creating "walking coin box telephones." The satire mocks both entrepreneurial greed and the presumed abundance of intoxicated people in winter. References to "Wheeler's League for the Extension of Ennui" (unclear figure) suggest satirizing reform/prohibition movements that might object to the scheme. **Lower Cartoon ("Strange goings on!"):** Depicts what appears to be a working-class encounter between two men ("Mike" and someone meeting "Mr. Dennis" and "Mr. Kelley"). The exact satirical target is unclear without more context, though it likely comments on contemporary social dynamics or labor relations. **Bottom Note:** A throwaway joke about druggists filling more eyeglass prescriptions than opticians—likely mocking either medical incompetence or unregulated practice. The page's overall tone reflects Judge's characteristic satirical approach to urban American life and social absurdities.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Prospectus Wier with the hard winter pre- dicted I stand excellent chances of making a fortune ere spring comes round again. Not, as you might guess, by shoveling snow or boot- legging coal. My scheme is simpler. I propose to corner the market on St. Bernards, and then through the frozen byways of Manhattan send forth the dogs, each one equipped with a small keg of that cognac that the good brothers of some Alpine order of humanitarians used to pro- vide for belated travelers, when blizzards whooped around the Jung- frau. The drinks in those days were always on the house. I am no philanthropist, and my overhead will be heavy. Wherefore the snow- blinded New Yorker, overcome and sprawling in a slush-choked gutter, will be obliged to deposit a half dollar with Bruno or Bismarck or Fritz ere he may partake of my barreled sweetness and light. In other words, the dogs will be a sort of walking coin box telephone, save that once a fifty-cent piece drops into the slot something more stimu- lating than a voice with a smile will issue forth. T have not of course overlooked the legal aspect of the matter. Each woof will be tagged with a properly “Hey, Mike! I want ye to meet a friend o' mine. Mr. Kelley, shake hands wit’ Mr. Dennis.” indorsed permit, prescribing appro- priate shots of the essence of Hail- Hail. And I want to be present when some zealous kleagle of Mr. Wheeler's League for the Extension of Ennui attempts to convince one of my shaggy-haired, heavyweight salesmen that there is no longer a thing as the Bill of Rights. verything is set. ‘To-morrow brings forth a countrywide round- up of kennels. Step up, men, and get in on a good thing! Only a few blocks of stock remain. Suppose your sister should be overcome in Bryant Park! Sign on the dotted line, Marcus Hook Rad 2 . More prescriptions for glasses are Strange goings on! filled by druggists than by opticians. comicbooks.com