Judge, 1927-02-05 · page 12 of 36
Judge — February 5, 1927 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Explanation for Modern Readers This page contains two humor pieces from *Judge* magazine, a satirical publication. **"It's No Joke"** depicts an editor demanding his staff produce a two-line joke by 5 p.m. or face termination. Staff member Hatch arrives with a joke: a patient asks "how did you get here?" after being hit by a car; the other replies "Anti-Saloon League"—a reference to the Prohibition-era organization. The joke mocks the Anti-Saloon League by implying their members cause accidents (likely a jab at their perceived self-righteousness or unpopularity). Below this, a brief anecdote about a hospital patient named Hatch (possibly the same character) describes him having glass removed from his head after being struck. A nurse misspells his name, and an intern corrects her, leading to a recycled punchline about pencil erasers. The satire reflects the pressure magazine editors faced to fill space with humor, and the sometimes-forced or recycled nature of such material.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
} 4 “T was hit by an automobile “Anti-Saloon League.” It's No Joke six contributors faced the editor nervously. From the oldest one, whose white beard swept the ground, to the young beardless lad who was the latest edition to the staff, all were visibly on edge. Har- ried and white, the editor turned savagely from the pile of papers be- fore him to the circle of tense faces. “Now listen!” he said in a low, menacing tone, “this is final! I've put everything you've given me into this magazine, and with all you've how did you get here?” done, there’s still one blank space left. You claim you haven't an idea left. But let me tell you this: unless one of you digs up at least a two-line joke by fiveo’clock this after- noon, the whole crowd of you can stay away from this office forever! It’s two o'clock now. Get out of here; but remember, five o'clock!” Silently the men filed out of the office. Utter dejection stamped ‘y face. On the street corner y conversed in low tones before drifting one by one to their homes. At four-thirty that Hatch, the star of the Tran through the ante-room and without knocking, burst’ into the editor's office. The editor looked up grimly. “Well, out) with it!" he com manded curtly. “Wait till you Hatch excitedly. to anothe: erybody makes mis- takes, Joe. Yes?” muttered the editor, reach- ing under his desk, “and what's the rest of it?” “The other guy says, ‘Yes, Al, that’s why they put rub end of lead pencils!" cried Hateh triumphantly. “Oh, is that so?” queried the editor, and he rose from behind his desk. * + * + * afternoon, it!" cried + fella says “What's the name of that new pa- tient? ked the head nurse. “Hatch plied the young. in- terne. “The doctor said he took out about twelve pi sof glass from his head, but he’s afraid there might be some left, Said the patient looked like he'd been hit with a bottle or something.” “Yeh, he was probably at one of them foreign weddings,” said the hurse, writing rapidly on a chart. The interne looked over her shoulder. “You've misspelled the name,” he interrupted, “it's Hateh, not Hotch!” “W makes mis- sred the nurse wittily. “That’s why they put rubbers on the end of lead pencils!” Perelman DO YOU KNOW | WHO | THIS IS- @ (See page 24) comicbooks.com