Judge, 1931-02-28 · page 12 of 36
Judge — February 28, 1931 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page Analysis This page contains several satirical pieces typical of 1920s-30s humor: **"The Inside Track"** mocks a soapbox orator ranting against a five-day work week as ruinous, revealed to be Rocco, a famous six-day bicycle racer. The joke: his opposition stems from self-interest (his sport depends on six-day races), not principle. **"Modern Simile"** compares Gandhi's difficulty leaving India to removing a persistent barber—likely referencing Gandhi's actual independence efforts, treating his political importance with flippant humor. The cartoon showing three figures with a "Mustard" jar appears to reference an ongoing joke about aggressive condiments or food hazards ("It Shoots First" below mentions grapefruit attacks). **"To My Secretary"** is affectionate office verse about a typist, comparing her to the Mona Lisa while gently mocking her spelling. Other pieces—"Deserving," "Lawyer" joke—are brief gags about professional types. The humor assumes readers recognize contemporary references like Rudy Vallee and understand workplace dynamics of that era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Inside Track A™ crown had already gathered around the lean, loud man on the soap box when I arrived. Politely elbowing my way to the front, I cocked an attentive car to his ha- rangue. “Worry,” he was shouting. “Worry. My friends, you don't know what worry is yet. You think times have been hard, do you? Wait, my friends, just wait until they give us this five- they prattle. nd gentlemen, we will have somet about which to grieve. Who wants a five-day week, my friends? Do you want it?) Do I want it? No! What will it mean? Ruina- tion! Absolute ruination, my fellow men. Who—” But by this time I was beg r to get just a little bit curious. ay,” I asked the fat woman who was stand- ing on my left foot, “just who is that guy of whic w hen, lad Who is he?" she replied, “don't tell me you haven't heard of Rocco, the world’s champion six-day bicycle rider?” —C. D. G. Modern Simile as taking Gandhi away Difficult from India. “Wet or dry?” asked the barber, as he started to comb the Senator's h That was two weeks ago. The Sena- tor still is talking. And it seems strange that no taxi company has kept up with the times by painting its cabs like backgammon boards. Rows ene ten “Quit boring that compass,” Lawyen—But, dear, I am at a meeting of the Bar Association! JUDGE roared Capt. Flint. 10 T thought he was still givin’ dictation!!” To My Secretary Apimpextnos lady deftly Playing keys on your Corona, Typing rightly, typing leftly, While you smile like Lisa (Mona): dwell on Fair to view you are— W it is I have to tell: You can never cast a spell on Me till you have learned to spell. On your wages, I'm aware that You support a crippled brother; Also, there's a weekly share that Goes, I understand, to mother our courage in a tight plac soul—my optics blur 3 rt is in the right p How I wish your commas were —Monrntre Ryskinp It Shoots First Rudy Vallee isn't the only one threatened by the grapefruit menace. We can't sit down to breakfast with out being attacked by one. And our wife not only can hit a barn door, but she can keep right on going and hit the wall opposite, as well. The first alphabet soup—when the ce Prof. Percival Jones, M., B.S., Ph.D., D.D. Deserving Investigator, spare that judge; When ame fast and thick, He didn't disappear Or say that he was sick. —R. C. O'Brien comicbooks.com