Judge, 1932-09 · page 10 of 36
Judge — September 1932 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Mistress Pepys' Journal" - Judge Magazine Satire This is a humorous society column by Baird Leonard, written in the style of Samuel Pepys's famous 17th-century diary but documenting 1920s upper-class leisure activities. The satire mocks wealthy summer-colony life in upstate New York (Cooperstown area). The jokes target: - **Frivolous concerns**: finding money in breakfast coffee, blindfolding herself with a handkerchief near hay wagons - **Social pretension**: gossiping about neighbors' behaviors (Amy Cartwright powdering her nose before fences) - **Shallow entertainment**: obsessing over trivial details like which finger someone's engagement ring is on - **Wealth and boredom**: the narrator manufacturing dramatic gossip to lure visitors The bottom cartoon depicts a man alone at home with pets while his wife vacations—showing he's reduced to feeding himself whatever's available. The satire suggests wealthy leisure society is simultaneously self-important and utterly trivial.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Judge Mastress Pepys’ Journal OOPERSTOWN, N. Y., August 15. C -Awakened betim full of zest, for not only was the morn- ing fair, but the indications of money on the top of my breakfast coffee were so abundant that I did burn my tongue and splash the counterpane in my eagerness to collect them, and inspired to send a wager to Saratoga on the second fully aware that some citizens die solvent, whilst others bet on steeple- chases. Then up and did on my suit of loosely woven slate-coloured silk, very smart, and so to the neighboring hamlet of Hartwick to see Brother Bostwick take off in his new Waco plane with my cozen Florence as a passenger, and was so moved by the luxury and comfort of the craft’s appointments that I might have ac- companied them had I brought along a pack of playing cards or a murder story to divert me from apprehen- sions in the upper air. Back to the village, causing considerable stir in the main street through having blindfolded myself with a chiffon handkerchief to prevent encounter- ing again three loads of hay on which I had made brave and desperate wishes, and when I arrived home seven inqu had been telephoned about an accident to my vision, a splendid comraent on the dearth of bad news in this happy summer col- ony. Toa meeting of the committee in charge of our coming charity fes- “One dog biscuit, some liver, bird seed, fish food, toast and coffee. 8 By Baird Leonard tival, and in discussing the side show attractions, an immediate need of the words of “The Tattooed Lady” devel- oped, and nobody knew more of them than that “all around her hips was a row of battleships.” so we put through a long distance call to Henry Pillotson, famed for his memory of cs to every popular song, and zany refused to sing it to us over the wire for no better reason that he was in conference with his senior pa nd somewhat sur rounded by casu stenographers, so demanded speech with old Mr. Upshaw, whom I once rescued from a foul cropper at a house party, and he did give me, to Hank’s ement I daresay, not only the details we were after, but a contribution of one hundred dollars to our good works. He confided, moreover, that if I chanced to be redecorating any of our rooms this autumn, he had a large bundle of stock certificates which would suffice for wallpaper. ucusT 16. Up at daybreak to see the horses schooled, then a fine kfast of sausages and waffle during which there was a discussion of Amy Cartwright’s behaviour in the hunting field, for the wench will stop to powder her nose before tak- ing a fence, and is always riding up beside the zealots with muttered sup- plications to come along home and make a fourth at bridge. Feeling in a mood for backgammon, and doubt- ful of enveigling an opponent into a bout at such an hour, | did ring up Midge Warfield and imply during a nonchalant conversation that I was in possession of a juicy bit which | could not impart over the telephone, and the wretch was here within eight minutes, albeit she dwells several miles down the valley, so that I was at some pains to make good on my implication, and the best I could do on such short notice was that Lulu Treadwell, recently divorced and re- ried, was seen at a club luncheon wearing her fi engagement ring: on the third finger of her right hand Little did Midge realize the risk she ran in asking me if I had read “The Fountain,” forasmuch as I had well nigh made up my mind to reach out and whack the next person who put the question to me, since I have not read the book, and have become un- onably prejudiced against it through the persistence of such in- quiry concerning it. But Lord! when I ponder that I did put off “The Good Earth” for six months, merely be- I discovered that it was about nothing but Chinese, and coolies at that! My only means of evening up in this connection is to ask my inqui itors if they have read “The Fi night in September,” the most engay- ing novel I have come across in some time. News come this day that Sam’s nephew has at last fulfilled the re- quirements for entrance to Harvard, and his uncle’s observation on his success was a wager that he must have slipped a case of whiskey to the fellow who passed him. My wife's on her vacation.” comicbooks.com