Life, 1908-05-14 · page 7 of 20
Life — May 14, 1908 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes the early automobile era's adventurous long-distance racing. The main illustration shows an artist (Charles Dana Gibson, Life's European representative) painting a portrait while positioned in the frozen Siberian landscape—a joke about the extreme conditions these early motorists endured. The narrative follows a "great car" journey from Paris across Siberia, where characters named Taft, Metcalfe, and Cosntack encounter the Trans-Siberian Railway and frozen steppes "almost as dreary as the Heights of Hoboken." The satire mocks both the absurd pretensions of these automotive expeditions and American provincial attitudes (comparing Siberia to New Jersey). The bottom cartoon captions joke about winter fashion necessities in extreme climates.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
‘The great car, with its new occupant, proceeded along the Arctic Sca to Nyni- Kolinski. Metcalfe—now universally recognized as the greatest driver in the world—guided its course over the frozen tundra. Taft sat be- side him, watching for polar bears. In the rear, Bernard Shaw and Anthony Comstock talked of their common aims. At this moment a rather interesting thing happened. Tt must not be denied that in this world race Lire has had competitors. 1 cars, indeed, started for Paris over this route. They are all good cars and deserve great credit. Some of them had made very com- plete preparations for the journey. It was learned at Nome that the Thomas car, the leader, was somewhere in Siberia. The whereabouts of the others was not known, But just before the Zip ran into Nyni-Kolinski, sure cnough, road, stuck in a drift, this car Roberts and Brinker, the drivers, looked up wonderingly as the Zip glittered by. “Any help?” asked Metcalfe, pleasantly. But Brinker shook his head. He is, os every one knows, a dead game sport. “Sec you at Maxim's,” he shouted. GIBSON SIGHTED! “Get a horse!” inuttered Comstock. Far ahead of them, stretching on their left, was the Trans-Siberian Railway. To their right were the frozen steppes of Si- beria, almost as dreary as the Heights of Hoboken. America, that strange mixture of politics, panics, pruriency, prudery and perquisites, scemed like a far-off echo. “Boys,” said Taft, solemnly, “what docs it mean to be President? Give me a simple life like this. 1” — Suddenly, far in the rear, there arose a confused murmur. Pctropavalovski has been passed and in the dim distance Krasnoyarski looms up. An object! What sensations were aroused as the Czar’s boom-proof car was recognized, standing quietly in a back drift. Near him was Charles Dana ( busily en- gaged in painting his portrait. As the Zip glided along the frozen road, with our flag bravely flying, the occupants stepped out and greeted the two great inen ‘Their emotions can better be imagined than described, as the Congressional Record so aptly puts it. “Welcome to Russia!” said Nicholas, stepping forward and grasping Metcalfe’s hand. “Welcome to Anarchy, to tion, to Insurrection, to Aristocracy, and to ME.” Thus they met. And after a light luncheon, with the Zip leading, the Czar following, they proceeded on their way toward St. Petersburg. In the meantime, Paris grows more ex- cited every moment. (To be continued) “WHY ARE YOU SPORTING SUCH A GET-UP “OH, I'M TIRED OF ALWAYS WEARING BLACK!” comicbooks.com