Judge, 1926-12-18 · page 8 of 36
Judge — December 18, 1926 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page Analysis This page contains two distinct pieces of humor: **"Near Calamity"** is a comic narrative about two men nearly fighting in what appears to be a restaurant or bar. One insults the other's wife, escalating toward violence—until the aggressor claims to be "Killer Burke, lightweight champion of the East." The first man, revealed as "Young Plotznik," is Burke's challenger, and they immediately become friendly rivals, laughing off their near-brawl. The satire mocks the performative masculinity and ego of professional boxers: their sudden shift from hostile strangers to cordial friends once professional status is established, and the absurdity that celebrity status alone defuses genuine conflict. **"Noses In Bloom"** is a nostalgic poem by J.P.F. lamenting the loss of old saloon smells—specifically the "rotten, sour smellin' / Of a barroom runnin' free." The speaker yearns for pre-Prohibition barroom odors, suggesting this was written during or shortly after Prohibition (1920-1933), when such establishments were illegal. The humor lies in romanticizing what most would consider unpleasant smells.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE Near Calamity ‘ou will insult my wife, will you?” snarled the first bruiser. “I didn’t insult your wife!” re- torted the second. ‘And what's more, if you don’t shut up and go back to your own table I'll bust you one in the nose!” “Yah, yah!” sneered the first. “Try and do it!” “ The first man removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves. ‘or two | cents,” he said, “I'd paste you in | | th et” | . “Is zat so?” retorted the other. “Well, you'd better not try it, big boy. I'm Killer Burke, lightweight champion of the East.” The first man put on his coat again, a surprised look in his eyes. Presently he smiled and extended his hand. “Say, I'm glad to meet you!” he said pleasantly. “I’m Young Plotz- nick, your challenger. Put it there!” ‘Well, well, well, so you’re Plotz- nick!” cried Burke, shaking the fel- low’s hand warmly. “Say, I sure am glad to see you! Why, imagine my saying that for two cents I’d paste you in the eye!” He laughed heart- ily. ‘Don’t take it so hard, Ichabod—even if she threw you over, remember The two became fast friends. what the song says— The hours I’ve spent with thee, dear heart!’ ” Norman R. Jaffray “It ain’t the hours I’m thinking of—it’s the jack.” Noses In Bloom I smelled a lot of pleasant things Some things that were forlorn I've smelled the smoke of battle, And the rose at early morn. But now I’m growing older And my smeller’s not acute, These modern odors that I smell They never seem to suit. I've a craving in my system, Yet it seems to be denied, For the very sweetest odor That my nose has ever tried. It's the rotten, sour smellin’ Of a barroom runnin’ free. There ain’t no words can ever tell What that odor means to me. I go down the street a-sniffin’ With my old nose opened wide. For the odor that was comin’, From the doors that swung inside. J And if hell is full of licker And in heaven they are dry, We thought the Christmas drawing of the poor little girl and the beautiful T’ll sniff up to the pearly gates lady was always good, but somehow it doesn’t seem to hit just the right | But I'll go sniffin’ by. J. P. F. note this year. | | 6 comicbooks.com