Life, 1902-12-25 · page 49 of 77
Life — December 25, 1902 — page 49: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page features a sentimental poem by Edwin L. Sabin about a child asking whether Santa Claus exists. The poet affirms Santa's reality while acknowledging the bittersweet knowledge that childhood belief is temporary—the child will eventually learn the truth. The accompanying illustrations show a father figure holding a child and a reindeer in snow, supporting the nostalgic Christmas theme. Below the poem are three brief humorous "fillers"—short jokes mocking: 1. **Clerical verbosity**: Ministers' sermons are so lengthy and boring they could decorate a church better than actual decorations 2. **Apartment heating**: Radiators that malfunction seasonally 3. **Poet self-readings**: The awkwardness of poets reading their own work aloud A trivia question about winter solstice appears at bottom. This mix of sentimental verse and light satirical humor was typical of *Life*'s editorial approach—blending sentiment with social commentary and comedic relief.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Is There a Santa Claus?" Re night with the s jakes is thick, Old Boreas blow Aud now is the time when speeds Saint Nick Over the piled-up snows ; For close at my knee there stands a wight And pleads, in the cuddling That follows his kiss and his sweet‘ good night”: “Js there a Santa Claus?" And Lanswer: "Yes, to be sure there is! Why, straight from the pole he comes With his reindeer, Dasher, and Prance. and Whizz, And a load of sleds and drums, And a host of wonders both tin and wood Intended for lass and Jad: oceans of toys for the children good— But sticks for the children bad!" So we talk, and guess, and Saint Nick we hear Whenever a sleigh-bell rings ; And into the chimney-throat we peer, While the back jog glows and sings. Till, careless of drifts besieging deep, And many a snow-whirl wraith, fast in his bed he lies asleep, ure in his childish faith. Dream, happy youngster, your fondest dreams Of Dasher, and Wh and Prance ; Not mine the arrogant right, meseems, To shatter one least romance. For the time draws near, in the future's store, en toa thousand flaws, Edvwin L, Sabin§ Filling. e E OW shall we deco- rate the church this Christmas?" “With the minister's sermons. They are greener and take up more space than anything I know of.” “M said the little * boy in the flat, “Tonly wish that radia- tor was as cold in the summer as it is in the winter!" ‘ee about con centration of thought! Did you ever see a poet read- ing one of his own yycies yes, tae twenty-Puust UF DECEMBER 15 THE SHORTEST DAT poems in @ maga- ix Tan yan. WHAT Is THE LONGEST DaY IN THE YEAR? “one THESE SNOW-suOES ARE SIMPLY OREAT.” zine? “THe Day BEPORE charsTMas.” comicbooks.com