Judge, 1927-04-09 · page 10 of 36
Judge — April 9, 1927 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Magazine Page This page contains three separate satirical pieces mocking 1920s-30s trends: **"The Custom of the Country"** (top cartoon): Ridicules radio bridge instruction crazes. The joke: radio lessons made the narrator so skilled at bridge he now dominates seven clubs and has won 59 consecutive first prizes in two months—suspiciously perfect. His revenge: he's mailing the radio experts 59 jars of bath salts, suggesting they've somehow scammed him or the whole thing is absurdly rigged. **"A Preventive"** (middle): A burglar complains his persistent cough prevents work. Dark humor plays on the incongruity of a criminal worried about productivity—he wants sympathy for a minor ailment while admitting his profession. **Bottom cartoon**: Shows a photographer awkwardly positioning a woman on a bicycle, with the caption about "tabloids" getting unusual angles on subjects—likely mocking sensationalist journalism's intrusive photography tactics. Each piece uses exaggeration and ironic confessions to satirize contemporary social issues: gullibility toward new media, crime, and invasive press culture.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JUDGE 1 The Custom of the Country Hose radio bridge experts will have reason to regret their negligence. Their instructions have ruined me, who never played cards before I bought a radio. They made me a master of the game after only four half-hour les- sons. Now I am unbeatable. I belong to seven bridge clubs, and would hold membership in others if there were more than Tue Pientc Nic Cive—dll_ the country, without leaving the city. A Preventive I have the most annoying little cough. It is nothing serious, just a slight hangover from a cold, but it has me bothered. There is a sensation of ticklishness in my throat which, every so often, causes me to break loose with an explosively raucous bark, that no amount of will-power an con- trol. It comes when least ex- pected; its persistence is nerve- wracking. I feel perfectly fit, but I simply can’t work as long as it remains. I am a burglar. —Manton E. Burns seven evenings in a week. At fifty-nine sessions of my clubs in the past two months I have captured fifty-nine first prizes. The experts who gave me in struction by radio told a lot, but they didn’t tell all. One problem must be solved and I intend to shift the burden to them. Perhaps they will know how to dispose of the contents of a pack- age which they will receive about the day after to-morrow. In it they will find fifty-nine jars of bath salts. —Geracp Coscrove ad has bought « second-hand car. inconveniences of “Oh, so that’s how the tabloids get such an angle on their subjects!” A pedestrian is a person who comicbooks.com