Judge, 1931-07-11 · page 10 of 36
Judge — July 11, 1931 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Judge Magazine Page Analysis This page contains two satirical pieces typical of early 20th-century Judge magazine humor. **"Turf Lover"** mocks horse racing obsession and gambling. A character named Bundy, presented as a horse breeding enthusiast, is revealed to be placing bets through a bookmaker ("Johnny") via telephone. The narrator—initially impressed by Bundy's supposed expertise—discovers Bundy's "knowledge" is actually gambling jargon about odds, weights, and suspicious practices ("they're sure to pull him" suggests race-fixing). The joke: Bundy's respectable horse-lover persona masks compulsive gambling addiction. **"The Way Things Are Going"** satirizes Depression-era cost-cutting in manufacturing. Executives demand relentless budget reductions despite already operating at skeleton crew levels. The punchline—they'll eventually produce "the skimpiest girl's bathing suit on the market"—suggests absurd, counterproductive downsizing: cutting costs so aggressively that products become worthless. This reflects real economic pressures of the 1920s-30s period when manufacturers competed through cost reduction rather than innovation. Both pieces critique contemporary American business culture: gambling addiction masquerading as expertise, and corporate short-sightedness.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
nap always heard that Bundy was interested in breeders. I have a great respect for a man who is a horse lover, though I know little about them myself. The first time I ever saw Bundy he impressed me very much with his racing knowledge. Last Wednesday I went in and found him swamped in a mass of charts. His elbow was on a sheet called “Turf Chatter.” He held the telephone into which he was talking: “Dll take a hundred on Parisienne in the fourth, Johnny. ... Yeah, Pari- sienne.” > turned to me smilingly. ice day for the races,” I said. “I wonder you're not out at the TURF LOVER be “Here, what are you climbing up there for?” “I'm mad at the elevator man.” The Way Things Are Going “W “tt have to make another cut.” “Can't we wait until next year?” “We can’t wait another week! The other manufacturers are already making drastic reductions. We'll have to do the same.” “Well, I don’t see where we can make any more decreases.” “There must be some place. “You'll have to find it. I've gone over the whole business, and it’s nothing but a skeleton affair already. I tell you, boss, if we make one more cut everything will drop, that’s all.” “Let it drop. That isn’t our problem. We've got to keep on cutting and slash- ing every place we can until we're put- ting out absolutely the skimpiest girl's bathing suit on the market!" —Cuet Jounson ccupied. “Johnny tells indfather’s Be n't lose. Grand- tly the horse to me he likes I'm sure Parisienne father’s Beard is str but he hasn't a ¢ and Kurtsmeyer up. Johnny's all “Who is Johnny?" I asked, wishing I had Bundy’s knowledge of horses. in salary. N “And how can you bear to miss this oh rr Ih, Johnny's the bookmaker. I always place my bets over the tele- phone. I'll get the results pretty soon, and, oh, boy! Will I clean up! Grandfather's Beard hasn't got a chance the I dope it out. He isn't a mudder. I admit he won his last three races, but look at the weight he was carrying.” “I y seldom go to the races,” I apologized nervously. “Besides,” continued Bundy, “he'll be odds-on favorite, there'll be big commission money on him, and they're sure to pull him.” It was all Greek to me. “I sure would like to go out to the track.” Say, you don't need to go to the What do you want to go there You gotta ‘study this thi was up till four this morning stud Parisienne. He's out of Bedbu Butterfly’s Pal, and his grandsire’s grandsire was Windsucker. Wind- sucker! You've heard of him, the biggest money winner for 1914 at int Dinector—I've just had word that you're all getting twenty per cent cuts ow let’s get on with this comedy. comicbooks.com