Judge, 1929-01-12 · page 5 of 36
Judge — January 12, 1929 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page Analysis This page contains several humor pieces typical of Judge's satirical style: **"Never Too Late"** mocks life insurance applications, showing a Scotsman too weak to sign his own name—suggesting insurance companies accepted obviously unsuitable applicants. **"The Home Wrecker"** describes domestic chaos from what appears to be a severe storm or disaster, with furniture destroyed and the narrator's wife distressed. It's a humorous account of property destruction. **"Parsley Bad and Parsley Terrible"** is a brief joke about a water crossing, likely referencing a song or common phrase. **"Just His Troubles"** offers quick quips about misfortune—a pianist and others facing bad days. The cartoons are genteel humor targeting middle-class anxieties: insurance fraud, domestic disasters, and everyday misfortunes. No specific political figures or events are referenced on this page.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Never Too Late Superintendent—What's the X on this life insurance application? -nt—It was made by a ms he was too weak to sign his name. Henry Ford's maxim that “no successful boy ever saved money” reminds us of the man who sz “I My first job sa week and tod million dollars. ok at my success. d me three dolla y I owe over : You know how they could get away with smuggling Chinamen into the country without any fear of detection? Put ‘em in whiskey barrels. A Scotsman told us he'd have to give up listening to the radio during the winter; he’s afraid he might catch pneumonia, Celebrants keep such bad hours adays the morning after is usually a day later. Parsley Bad and Parsley Terrible! ard the water cress song?” “Baby, come back! I water cress you like I used to do!” = ZaA\ \éineZ Capraty—I guess I'll have to go down that d—n laundryman I want my breeches News Puorocrarnen—Oh, lady—please shoot him over here! The Home Wrecker As I opened the door of the foyer and gazed into the library, a scene of terrible chaos greeted me. It seemed as if the worst features of a West Indian hurri- cane and an East Indian monsoon had passed through the room, leaving a horrible trail of destrue- tion in their wake. My lovely English desk was chipped and scarred. Our walnut radio cabi- net was badly marred and one of its ornamental legs was broken. Chairs had been hurled about and my precious books were strewn over the floor. Lamps, curtains and vases were heaped together in a corner and my favorite etch- ing had been crumpled in. the maelstrom, Our dining room was a terrible Chairs, tables, glasses, mirrors—everything we had so. painstakingly "purchased was scattered to the four corners of the room. Broken fragments mess. silver, here and there mutely testified to the merciless mood of the wrecker. 1 stumbled through the litter to the kitchen, only to behold my tearful wife knee-deep in a sea of broken crockery, china and kitchen utensils, “When?” was all 1 could ask as she came towards me for a sympathetic kiss. “Today,” she answered, daub ing at a tear. “The painters started work in the apartment this morning.” —Artuve L. Lirpepmann Just His Troubles Cheery Fellow—Wh down on such a da man, when all the tune? Despairing Piano Plumber— Git th’ ///7)#!?!?? outa here! > Cast s this, my world’s in comicbooks.com