Life, 1907-11-07 · page 33 of 50
Life — November 7, 1907 — page 33: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a satirical illustration and the opening of a short story titled "Players of the Game" by Arthur Stanwood Pier. **The Illustration:** A mock-heroic cartoon depicts "Jeanne d'Oilyans" (a pun on Joan of Arc) leading "La Fuselle" and captains into battle against "Competition," bearing the "Oilyflamme" (likely referencing oil industry or commercial interests). The exaggerated, cartoonish style mocks grandiose business or political campaigns through historical parody. **The Story:** Opens with a shabby Irish man attempting to see "Mr. Hendricks," a politician/candidate. An office boy dismissively calls him a "Dimocrat" [Democrat]. Hendricks, in campaign mode, warmly greets the visitor as "Casey"—a constituent he's apparently forgotten. The satire critiques political hypocrisy: Hendricks' sudden cordiality contrasts with his earlier dismissal, while Casey's hurt suggests politicians exploit working-class supporters only during election season, then abandon them. The humor targets machine politics and Irish-American political relationships in the early 20th century.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
JEANNE dR. d‘OILYANS, No. IIl—THE SORTIE BEARING THE “OILYFLAMME" AT THE HEAD OP HER TRUSTED CAPTAINS, LA FUSELLE LEADS FORTH THE EXPEDITION AGAINST COMPETITION Players of By Arthur Stanwood Pier “\YVHAT name shall T say?” ‘The office boy looked dis- approvingly at the gaunt, unshaven, shabby Irishman who had inquired if the “‘Sinator’” was i “Never mind the name. Tell him it is a Dimocrat.” e boy passed languidly into the adjoining room and languidly returned. “Mr. Hendricks is busy. about?” “That ain’t for you to ask. Step back there and tell him it’s a matter of immejiate importance—and step lively.” ‘The boy shufiled again into the private office. He came What you want to see him ks will see you,” he said. ing his caller, the young lawyer displayed the cordiality which a candidate in the last month of his campaign usually has for a constituent. “Why, hello, Casey!” he exclaimed. “If I'd known it was the Game you I wouldn't have kept you waiting. Why didn’t you send in your name?” Twould have made no odds. Casey answered in a sad, reproachful_ voic himself; when he sat down, the comers of his long, red, melancholy upper lip seemed to droop even more than when he stood. “Forgotten you! Oh, nonsense.” Hendricks pushed the box of cheap cigars which he re- served for such visitors across the table. Casey silently dug up a handful and slowly distributed them among his pockets. “You've either forgot me or done me dirt,” hi id, moum- fully. “And I wouldn’t be thinking ¢hat of you, Sinator. No, I didn’t send in my name. I knowed you'd not remem- ber it.” He reached out, took another cigar, bit off the end, and lighted it. Ye've forgot me, Sinator.” He seated This story continued on page 58 comicbooks.com