Judge, 1926-07-03 · page 12 of 36
Judge — July 3, 1926 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Satire Analysis This page satirizes the early 20th-century craze for polar exploration. The letter from "Gus and Mamie" mocks how the North Pole has become a commercialized tourist destination despite—or because of—its remote danger. Once an exclusive frontier for serious explorers, it's now crowded with licensed expeditions, roadside stands selling "Eskimo pies," land-con artists (like those who sold Florida lots), and amusement park attractions ("go-rounds, shootin' galleries, loop-the-loops"). The joke is that modernity and commercialism have turned the ultimate wilderness into an overcrowded, bureaucratic vacation spot. The "Explorers' Club" cartoon at bottom reinforces this: explorers are "all dressed up and no place to go"—their romantic purpose is obsolete in a world where everyone can visit the Pole. The "Tom Thumb" section and "Ballad of the Poles" appear unrelated filler content.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A Letter from Gus and Mamie North Pole View House, North Pole, Arctie Circle. p= Gus: Mamie and me was goin’ to go to Paris this summer, but we heard about everybody goin’ to the North Pole, so we came here. Well, you wouldn't know the place, Gus. ‘They've got so many ex- plorers stoppin’ here that the North Pole Board of Trade put through a law makin’ it necessary for all ex- plorers to be licensed before per- mittin’ ‘em to roam around the Arctic Circle. The roads leadin’ to the North Pole are so congested on Sundays that it takes three hours for a dog sledge to go a mile. They've got roadside stands every few miles sellin’ Eskimo pies. Those fellers who sold us them lots in Florida are up here too, ( selling property at the North Pole. Mamie and I sit on the porch of the hotel and watch the explorers goin’ past. Yesterday we counted fifty-two explorers and fifteen airships and after supper we went over to the North Pole on the jitney sledge. We “Never again.” go-rounds, shootin’ galleries, scenic railways and loop-the-loops all around the Pole and Mamie can’t stand crowds, so we caught the ten o'clock sledge and came back to the hotel. Love to all. We sleep under ten blankets every night. Why don’t you join some exploring party and drop in to see us? Expeditions leave the United St y hour. F Look in the bottom drawer ever; of my dresser and send me up a couple suits of winter underwear. Love, Hugh Wood Ballad of the Toles (Or, Don’t Blubber, Kid, It’s All Whale Oil) H E was a Polar explorer, A bear of a chap so they say; While she was a frail, far from catty female And known by the handle of May. He asked for her lily white Poland Though quaking a bit in his socks: She answered him “Yes”—his heart vaulted, I guess— And he tenderly kissed her pol- locks. G. A. P. JUDGE DRAW 'NEARER, KIDS, AN GET THE DIRT ON TOM"THUMB A little four-year-old remarked to his mamma, on going to bed, “I'm “No, of course, because it can’t hurt you, Rafael,” “But, mamma, I once was afraid when [ went into , what were you afraid was the dumb rejoinder. not afraid of the dark.” replied Mrs. Widget. the pantry to get a ‘cooky. ” “Twas afraid I shouldn't find any cookies,” “Why, Beaumo i anm EXPLORERS’ CLUB All dressed up and no place to go. comicbooks.com