Life, 1905-02-02 · page 14 of 40
Life — February 2, 1905 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes the corruption of American values through wealth and social climbing. The top illustration shows polo—traditionally an elite sport—being played chaotically by college students, mocking how the wealthy's pastimes trickle down and become vulgarized. The main feature is a humorous exchange of letters between a father and son in New York. The son describes his shabby circumstances (living in cheap hotels, needing clothes), then mentions casually handing a letter to "the President of the United States" who happened to be guarding a cottage door. The implication is darkly satirical: even the nation's highest office has become just another tool of the wealthy elite. The subsequent revelation—that this president is actually Peter McFudge, an old store clerk—underscores the joke: anyone can become "president" if you're rich enough. The son's visit to McFudge's mansion reveals trophy wives, gambling women, and ostentatious art—all symbols of ill-gotten wealth and moral decay among the nouveau riche. The satire targets Gilded Age excess and the corruption of American institutions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WHEN POLO HECOMES A COLLEGE GAME From a Homemade Son to a Homespun Father. New York. EAR DAD: There's ne —when you I shall se T haven't linger here awhi c I pu my Sunday suit 1 presented o ar letters of in- ction afternoon. commenters P reac ase send me another hu Don’t bl: The Harold. New York. rame leg? Where's t t the Waldo: dred. me. letter and my country clothes did it AK Dap: How's your —that is, in the br paper the north by the cab drivers’ thrownin, Ta union, on the wv-necked palm room, on the by a new hair and jc gry Iss ach curls up and But when the s! ugh the subway and join the 1 1 that hundred me New York clothes, of evening fall, I saun Mills H. T need sor t freight, for Harold. New York I handed it in to the Drak President of th side-par About that United ner of his, who ha Dap: y dressed pened to be aarding the en- ond Peter Me- “7 must have ance to the humble we of your old f F How Pe old days, when he clerked with you in udge, or Avenue. changed the general store! T enclose a clipping from a New York paper about some of his latest doings. He wasn’t in when I called, but his last wife broke through the lines and led me past about four million dollars’ worth of unblushing Venuses and other bric-i-brac, into a room where there was a bunch of Gotham girl-gamblers. I didn’t know it then, but I do ‘They were all playing bridge, and Mrs, McF. asked me to cut in Say, Dad, have you ever comicbooks.com