Judge, 1927-01-01 · page 4 of 36
Judge — January 1, 1927 — page 4: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page Analysis This page contains three satirical pieces typical of early-20th-century Judge humor: **"Slightly Cracked"**: A poem by Arthur L. Lippmann mocking middle-class anxieties about social propriety and financial strain—refusing to tip barbers or waiters, rationalizing debt avoidance, and displaying neurotic concerns about status and appearances. **"Poor Pappa"**: A brief joke about a father's exhaustion with his son's demands, using wordplay on bachelor-related terms as a punchline. **"After the Masquerade"**: A cartoon depicting a domestic scene where a woman scolds a man (Henry) still in formal masquerade attire, demanding he remove his uniform and tell the janitor they need more heat—a commentary on post-party domestic discord and household help relations. The humor targets middle-class pretensions, marital tensions, and class dynamics of the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE Poor Pappa Father (to youngster, just put to bed)—Now what are you crying for? Son—I wanna drink. “So do I—go to sleep.” eal B-achelors. A-re C-haps H-aving E-nough L-uck O-r brains to R-main S-ingle. Pde Fools rush into an elevator before the other people can get out. sae *punose afed ay} win} ajdood soyeu Ajjeiaua3 usop apisdn ou y Victin—I don’t want to wake the neighborhood! Sist, Officer! Sst! AFTER THE MASQUERADE Slightly Cracked M** muddled thoughts I har- bor, Many fantasies fallacious— I refuse to tip a barber and loquacious. To convention’s codes a traitor, Note my degradation utter: I decline to tip a waiter Who forgets to bring me butter. If he’s mes: Oh, I hope you won't think less of One who's not in his right senses, One whose income’s in excess of All his personal expenses. By my sickly brain engendered, Grew this plan—I know you'll dread it— I remit for bills when rendered And I will not buy on credit! With a doleful look I labor— Life is far from milk and honey— While my multi-mortgaged neighbor W: fat on borrowed money. T've no doubt a diagnosis Will reveal my brain is hazy. I've a definite psychosis, I’m indubitably crazy! Arthur L. Lippmann PIs Wife—Herbert wants us to get him a saxophone for his birthday. Husband—Nothing doing. Next thing, he’d be wanting to take up music. “And, oh, Henry—before you take off that uniform go down and tell _ the janitor we want more HEAT.” comicbooks.com