Judge, 1927-01-08 · page 12 of 36
Judge — January 8, 1927 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine - "Automobilious" Satire This page satirizes the used-car market and dishonest automobile salesmanship of the early automotive era. The top illustration shows various vehicles at roadside attractions, mocking the spectacle of motorist tourism. The main humor centers on a stark contrast: a suburban car owner delivers a brutal, honest assessment of his decrepit vehicle—it's unreliable, polluting, noisy, and barely functional. When he decides to *sell* it, his description completely reverses into exaggerated praise: suddenly the same car is a smooth, economical marvel worthy of $250. This satirizes the deceptive tactics of used-car dealers who misrepresent broken-down vehicles to unsuspecting buyers. The final caption—"The only way to beat the used car game is to become a used car salesman"—cynically suggests that profiting from this market requires participating in its fraud. The smaller cartoon about the motorist ordering "fill 'er up" at dinner mocks cars' notorious fuel consumption and the expense of early motoring.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE WE HEREBY MAKE AN EFFORT To please the sight-seeing motorists and the advertisers. Automobilious (Se’ smoker of the 8.18. PLAace: Anyoldplace. Mr. Suburbanite talk ing.) (Before he thought of selling his car.) “Bevxe’ like an army mule when I tried to take her up Snake Hill in high. The esophagus or something must be out of order. Can’t get any more than about three miles to the gallon and we have to wear gas masks so that the exhaust won't asphyxiate us. She makes a funny noise when we shift into second and stalls in traffic. For a $10 bill I'd drive her into the river if I wasn’t afraid of being arrested for obstruct- ing navigation. She overheats in “Ain't traffic gettin’ fierce?” “PU say it is! qe Ma A | Ren ean T've knitted this sweater just coming twelve blocks.” the summer and freezes in the winter. Every time I take her out of the garage it sounds as if the fire engines were coming. Brakes don’t hold and she skids on wet pavements She’s a bucking broncho of metallic misery. Thought I'd blow her up on the Fourth of July, but she isn’t worth the cost of powder.” (When he decided to sell it.) “The sweetest singing chariot on wheels. That little bus of mine could climb Mount Washington in eight minutes and tow up three other $ at the same time. When we don’t get at least twenty miles to the gallon we know that we're buying the wrong kind of gas. And smooth! She goes like the wind and you don’t even know the wheels are turning. I haven’t been stalled once with her and the only expense I ever had was when we had the valves ground and the carbon removed. The wife wants a larger car so that we can take her mother with us on Sundays and the thought of parting with that li'l old car breaks my heart. Some lucky man is going to pick up that concentrated lightning for $250 and she’s as good a buy as U. S. Steel.” Hugh Wood oer “Fill ‘er up,” cried the motorist to the waiter as he dined with his sweetie. ste The only way to beat the used car game is to become a used car sules- man, comicbooks.com