Life, 1884-07-03 · page 10 of 16
Life — July 3, 1884 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "We Are Seven": Political Satire on Democratic Party Failures This satirical poem mocks a Democratic governor listing his party's recent electoral and political disasters. The "seven brothers" represent failed Democratic candidates or initiatives: - **Henry** (Kentucky): A newspaper editor who backed Samuel J. Tilden but failed when Tilden withdrew from candidacy ("I decline") - **Billy Morrison**: Lost on tariff legislation in Washington - **Carlisle**: Appears to be John G. Carlisle, a Kentucky politician who fell from his "hobby horse" (political position) publicly - **Sam**: Likely Tilden again, unavailable when needed - **Payne**: A failed candidate damaged by association with oil interests The poem's title references Wordsworth's "We Are Seven," suggesting the governor counts failures as if they were achievements. The caricatures emphasize the Democratic Party's string of embarrassing losses and broken promises during this period. Without specific dating, the references suggest late 19th-century American politics, likely the 1880s-90s.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WE ARE SEVEN. MET a little Governor, “T yell reform,” he said ; “ The troubled waters round me roll And simmer bout my head.” “Sisters and brothers, little Gov., How many may you be ? Come, tell me ; there's a little dear !’" ““Why, one plus double three. “There’s Henry, ran a noble sheet Way down in old Kentucky. He boomed our old friend, Samuel J., But Hen, he was n’t lucky. For just when he 'd got Sammy down Unto a point so fine, Why, what does Sammy up and do, But shriek out : I decline! ! Then there was Billy Morrison, Who tried the Tariff act, And got knocked out in Washington Ina manner most compact. And poor Carlisle, he blew his horn While riding on his hobby, Which threw him off upon his head, In full view of the lobby. And now I drop a red-hot tear, In memory of Sam, Who, when his party wanted him, ‘Was n’t worth a tinker’s—cuss / Another brother died in Payne, A daisy candidate ; But he was rattled by the brand Of oil upon his pate. comicbooks.com