Life, 1899-01-12 · page 7 of 20
Life — January 12, 1899 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "To the President: A Petition" This satirical poem mocks an ambitious bureaucrat petitioning the President for increasingly grandiose titles and power—from "magistrate" to ruling a "tropic isle" to commanding "four-and-twenty brown negritos" with fans to keep away mosquitoes. The humor escalates absurdly through invented administrative ranks ("Deferential, Non-essential Fourth estate"). The accompanying illustration shows a crowded interior scene, likely depicting the petitioner presenting his ridiculous demands to officials or the President. A separate cartoon below features caricatured figures discussing a "War Investigating Commission"—suggesting contemporary political scrutiny or scandal investigation. The satire critiques administrative overreach, colonial ambition, and the self-aggrandizing nature of political appointees seeking ever-greater positions and perks.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
To the President. A PETITION. WANT to be a magistrate— An Oriental potentate, A consequential, Influential, Oriental Potentate. T’d like to rule a tropic isle, Not very big—say ono square mile. Is there for me no Filipino, Small casino, ‘Tropic isle? When I am prince in the Levant I'll ride tho sacred olephant ; Tho white and creamy, Slow and dreamy, Bright and gleamy Elephant. And when I go abroad In state My splendor soon will subjugate ‘The reverential, Deferential, Non-essential Fourth estate. Four-and-twenty brown negritos With fans will keep away mosquitoes; Malevolential, Most potential, Pestilential, Big mosquitoes. Ob, I will be supreme, I'll bet. T'll rule without a Cabinet; A referential, Conferential, Departmental Cabinet, And I will bo no celibate— My harem a fair syndicate; A confidential, Proferential, Most essential Syndicate. *Twill bo wide open when I’m ruler, Each night we'll have a hula-bula; A soul entrancing, Joy enhancing, Musclo dancing Hula-hula, Then let mo havo a tropic isle, A littlo bit of Nature's smile, Asoft and balmy, Fair and palmy, Never qualmy ‘Tropic isle. HE present is the future from which we hoped so much. IN BOSTON. The Girt from Detrott: 1 WROTR HOME, PROFESSOR, THAT 1 HAD FALLEN IN WITH 80 WISE A LOT OP MEN THAT WHEN ONE SAID “1 DON'T KNOW," IT DED LIKE REAL NEWS AND CAUSED EXCITEMENT. «€ J WOULD like to know why the Sen- ator visits the President so often.” “He is trying to get his nephew's brother-in-law appointed a member of the new Commission.” “What Commission is that?” “The Commission tu investigate the ‘War Investigating Commission.’ ” «© 7 CARE not,” said the capitalist, ‘‘who makes. the laws of the country, so long as I can help form the You, TOU BET I WOULDN'T BE A TRAMP. trusis,”” For: 1 THEY GAVE ME THE CHANCE THEY DO