Judge, 1929-05-25 · page 4 of 36
Judge — May 25, 1929 — page 4: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Judge Page This page contains two separate pieces: **"Call Me Early, Mother"** (top right) is a poem by Carroll Carroll about yearning for excitement and scandal—referencing "New England love-rite cults" and "gay composographs." It appears to satirize women's appetite for sensational news and risqué content. **"Getting Away with It"** (bottom) mocks Chicago's lenient attitude toward crime. It describes a bandit claiming ignorance about a loaded machine gun, and references a "radio trouble-shooter" willing to kill radio owners for $25. The accompanying cartoon shows what appears to be mobsters or criminals conducting illicit business. The satire suggests Chicago authorities overlooked criminal activity during Prohibition era gangsterism, with the cook's indifference to tracking kitchen floors paralleling larger negligence about serious crimes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Call Me Early, Mother Call me early Mother, prithee, While the haze hangs o'er the lands, When the Graphie 2. . Evening Graphie .. First’ shines pinkly o'er the stands. Call me early when each daisy Still nods ‘sleepily its head: Call me early, eall me crazy But there’s love-rites to be read. Oh I'm yearning for the sights, ma, its at which the devil, | ¢ | laughs, Of sadistic sceret rites, ma, Shown in gay composographs. Call me when the newsboy becks 1 Bids me come to take my fill... Does his best to ever sex me. . Cally me early to the kill. Wake me up at break of day, ma, When the world begins to pulse, MN And there's new news in the — | drama | “Do you realize you're a dangerous woman?” Of New England love-rite cults, —Connon Cannone | Getting Away with It | ; 7 | | A novel plea was recently of- } fered by a Chicago bandit’ who ea shot a few rivals, He claimed he didn’t know the machine loaded. n was In Chic | with ar f vou have trouble . you simply call a radio trouble - shooter, and for twenty-five dollars he will shoot the owner of the radio for you, Did you hear about the Scoteh- man who liked to travel but didn't like the expense? He'd just sit at home and let his mind wander. And then there’s that old fa- vorite ballade of the cut - rate tic broker, “The Last Rows of Summer.” ays that she are moody, Cora, our cook, doesn't care if peop just so long as they don’t track “It's all right, bo! I’m de butler, see? An! de jane what runs up her fresh-washed kitchen dis dump s¢ floors. room, comicbooks.com