Life — May 14, 1908 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

518 Not a Square Deal HAT which most disgusts the average citizen in this mutilating of four-footed friends, until death releases them from ago- nies no longer endurable, is not only its sick- ening cruelty but its absence of fair play. Had the dog, for in- stance, a vote, this question of a right to vivisect him would be dropped with amazing suddenness. Never again would we hear it advocated; laws for his protection would be passed before another sun could set. Swift, indeed, would be the realiza- tion of the fact that vivisection is by no means a necessity. But the dog has no vote. He is helpless and without friends. For his torture and his death there is no punishment. When he becomes a homeless wanderer he can be bought for little mor urely bound and gagged, he endures, in silence, worse agonies and longer drawn out than were suffered in the Inquisition. It is this deliberate violation of every prin- ciple of fair play, this safe disregard of the rights of weaker things, that revolt a civi- lized commun Asa surgeon, I have performed a very large num- ber of ations, but I do not owe a particle of my knowledge, of skill, to vivisection. I challenge any member of my profession to prove that vivisection has in any way advanced the science of medicine, or tend- ed to improve the treatment of disease. —The late Dr. Charles Clay. A Natural Question ITTLE NEW YORK BOY: Say, fa- ther, when will T be old enough so that I won't have to get up and give my seat to a lady? A SHORT LIFE, BUT A MERRY ONE Comstock Saved by Bemard Shaw—The Zip Passes Thomas Car—Royal Reinforcements—Gibson on Hand! “ QIBERIA is a cinch!” This is the latest message received from Metcalfe, now speeding toward Paris in Lire’s wonderful car, the Zip, which has already made the most remarkable journey in the history of the world. All competitors have been beaten tires down, Speaking of tires, the famous Chauncey Depew—“I die but never resign"”"—variety, puton the car in New York, still holds good. Worn down to nothing but hot air, they have sizzled their way through every snowdrift in the Arctic Circle. It is needless to say that as the car nears Paris, with its royal, literary and artistic oc- cupants, the most feverish excitement pre- vails in every capital in the world. Paris is on fire! The preparations for receiving the Zip have never been equalled, even in the days of Louis XIV or Napoleon. Maxim's, the famous Paris restaurant, awaits Anthony Comstock with almost the calmness of death. Every statue in the Louvre is trembling and blushing with excitement. “On to Maxim's!” has now become a household word on four continents. In Russia, nothing like the preparations for the reception at St. Petersburg has ever been witnessed. The story of Anthony Comstock’s re- markable rescue has never been equalled in the annals of the police courts. Given up as utterly lost in an Alaska snowdrift, just this side of Nome, every nation mourned him. Art was prostrated. Nome is the last point on the route before Bering Strait is crossed. The car had reached Solomon. Dub Comstock was sent on ahead to clear the snow. Apparently he had been lost. Let us now, however, turn to London, that wonderful place recently made famous by Bernard Shaw, wholives there off and on. When Bernard Shaw learned that Lire, had started the Zip out on its famous race half way around the world, and that An- thony Comstock had been induced to go along, he trembled for Comstock’s safety. With wonderful instinct and_ prescience, he recognized at once—what no one else seemed to comprehend—that terrible re- sults would follow should anything happen to Comstock. Bernard Shaw sped on from London to from Paris to St. Petersburg, across ‘Trans-Siberian Railway; then North and across the Bering Strait. On that fateful morning when Comstock was ordered forward to reconnoiter, Ber- nard Shaw, on his way to mect the car, found Anthony Comstock. He had curled himself up in the snow and, with a fast fading smile on his face, was trying to read his beloved “Three Wi to keep him warm, when Bernard Shaw lifted him tenderly up and chafed his sideboards. “Just in time!” he muttered. Anthony was far gone, but Bernard Shaw knew what to do, In a few moments he and Anthony were trotting back toward the car stalled at Solo- mon. The Zip, incrusted in ice and snow, pre- sented a sorry spectacle, But the presence of Bernard Shaw inspired everybody. “Get busy!” said Taft, giving Dub a playful kick, more out of gladness over his return than anything else. “Now look here, old man,” said Shaw, “you can’t treat Dub Comstock that way while I have a red hair in myhead, He’ssen- sitive and needs sympathy, and if you abuse him, you'll do it over my dead whiskers.” All that Dub Comstock needed was this little encouragement. Inspired by kindness, he touched up the machine, and in a few more minutes the Zip was ploughing toward Nome. ‘The next morning Bering Strait was crossed. comicbooks.com