Judge, 1931-02-21 · page 4 of 36
Judge — February 21, 1931 — page 4: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of "Judge" Page: "Judge Bested" This page satirizes **Gale Horton**, a professional "sitter" (likely a hired caretaker or babysitter). The story describes Horton's emotional breakdown while recounting his previous record-holding inactivity—until the "Wickersham Committee" supposedly beat his record on January 7th through complete inaction. The **Wickersham Committee** (1929-1931) investigated Prohibition enforcement under President Hoover. The satire mocks the committee's perceived ineffectiveness and passivity, comparing government inaction to a professional sitter's job. The cartoon suggests the committee was so inactive and useless that even a professional "do-nothing" couldn't match their record. The joke plays on frustration with government bodies appearing to accomplish nothing while tasked with important work.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
BESTED ne first time I saw Gale Horton he was crying real tears into near becr. Nothing glycerine about his sor- row. When I could stand the poor fellow’s anguish no longer, I went over to him, touched his arm apologetically. aps I could be of service in his hour of trd There, there, old man, get hold of yourself,” I impor- “People are looking!” t vem!" € snuffed. 11 me about it,” I suggested. “Me, I'm a swell little confidant.” He dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief, looking at me with questioning relief. “Go ad,” L urged. “Get it off your chest. Some- 'y call a professional sitter,” he began at last, his features twisted with ineffable sadness. “Gee, Bill! Il Duce is ; “Oh! Trees and flag-poles and things,” I commented. going to be axcful sore He nodded. “Until last month,” he went on, a dry sob 90 oat this racking his throat, “I was world champion sitter— I didn’t quite get him. Yes—world's champion! I held the record for just ‘sitting.’ S.tting and doing nothing.” “And then—" I prompted. “Yes, sir,” he muttered, sceming not to have heard, “for absolute inactivity I had ‘em all lashed to the mast!” He paused for breath, slumped forward in his seat with a record, beat ing I ever attempted. Gad, I didn’t think it was he faltered, ery would break—“th'—the Wickersham Committe —A. W. Ksicut comicbooks.com