Judge, 1926-12-25 · page 5 of 38
Judge — December 25, 1926 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Magazine Page This page contains two unrelated pieces: **"The American Bacchus"** (top): A poem celebrating drinking culture, illustrated with a figure drinking from a large barrel while viewing various global locations. The satire mocks American excess and wanderlust, suggesting travelers will pursue drinking opportunities worldwide—from Bulgaria to Kamchatka to the Bering Strait. The phrase "Ever the whole round world goes dry" suggests prohibition concerns of the era. **"Too Much"** (bottom): A domestic humor piece about an overworked postal carrier arriving home Christmas Eve exhausted from delivering mail. The illustration shows him collapsed in an armchair. The joke critiques the volume of Christmas mail and commercialism, with his wife noting undelivered gifts remain in a package of writing paper—suggesting even his gift is impractical given his exhaustion. Both pieces satirize American consumer culture and excess.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE The American Bacchus He up, my boon companion; Pack your things, ‘tis time to start On that ribald tour we promised To devote to Bacchus’ art. Cease your pitiful potations Of a gin as new as h—I. We will gargle Benedictine. Curagoa and Moselle. By the old Moulmein pagoda With the temple bells a-clink, What the good Moulmeinians drink of, Oceans of it, we will drink. On the far coasts of Kamchatka We will watch the dawns grow pale Drinking, like the best Kamchatkans, Gulfs of brown Kamchatkan ale. In the blue Bulgarian mountains, In a hut upon the steep We will tipple koumiss blithely Till we topple off to sleep. Mornings sipping in our cabin, Guzzling on the deck till late. Boozing round the Bay of Biscay, Beering up the Bering Strait. Yes, but old companion, hurry. Here we simply rot and die, Quick, for one world-round of drink- Mason—I’ve changed me mind—I won’t chase no $2 hat. ing E’er the whole round world goes dry. S. R. G. Too Much | opbixs, the mail man, staggered into his home at eight o'clock Christmas night, after having lugged infinite quantities of mail about all day. He looked for all the world | like the hunchback of Notre Dame; | in fact he was so bent over that the children thought he was getting ready to go down on all fours to play with them. His eyes were those of a caged animal, for his nerves were completely gone. The good wife kissed him and remarked that he had not yet seen his Christmas gifts. He tottered | over to that part of the davenport — | allotted to the display of suspenders, socks, ete.—took one look at an open box, and leaped, screaming hysterically, into the tree. | Some one had given him a package | Why not adapt the candelabra idea to the needs of the girl who has to of writing paper. | smoke more than one cigarette at once? George A. Paravicini comicbooks.com