Life, 1908-12-17 · page 11 of 28
Life — December 17, 1908 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page combines a four-panel comic strip showing a romantic couple's interrupted embrace with a poem by Francis C. Simson titled "The New Surgery." The comic depicts a man and woman attempting to kiss while children repeatedly interrupt them—a relatable domestic humor scenario common to early 20th-century Life magazine. The poem is a satirical monologue from someone who has undergone transplant surgery, receiving organs from various ethnic groups ("Jew and Gentile, Mongolian and Celt"). The speaker humorously catalogs their new mixed-heritage body parts and the resulting identity confusion, culminating in the plea to "Dr. Carroll" for help managing this bewildering biological mismatch. The satire mocks both contemporary transplant surgical ambitions and anxieties about ethnic/religious mixing in American society.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The New Surgery oO" ho! says Mike Maloney, as he comes from out the place Where they tinker up the organs of the “sub race I've got two lags as good as those I hac when I was born, And inside organs almost new—my old were quite well worn. and human They'd been in ice cold storage for nigh on thirty days, (Those doctors do for certain have some mighty funny ways!) They tell me that my stomach was a German Jew's when new, And my liver the possession of a man who wore a queue. A chorus girl's had been the heart forever more to beat Within my manly bosom, above my sober feet. And in place of floating kidneys, I have anchored hard and fast, A pair which an old lady had found useful in the past. I am all equipped for living. (I forgot to say, my leg Was taken from a drunken f6ol whose business was to beg.) And so—I'm starting fresh to make my way among the crowd, And win a reputation of which I may be proud. What's this! This leg is taking me—of all things !—to a door, And forcing me to beg a meal! I never cid before! But what am I to ask for? My own old palate yearns For ham and eggs and sausage, but my Jewish stomach turns It cries for kosher vituals and things with goose grease fried I couldn't get them down my throat, however hard I tried! My heart, perplexed, is pounding hard, when, what is this | see? A pretty girl with flying curl is making eyes at me! Alas! Alas! Ican’t respond! I used to, once, I know— But now my woman’s heart is on the lookout for a beau! Good heavens! What am I to do, with all these mixed up parts? These male and female organs, transplanted legs and hearts? This blend of Jew and Gentile, Mongolian and Celt, Which in this doctor's shuffle the devil must have dealt I'll go to Dr. Carrell, and get some cross-breed brains, To match the situation and keep it well in reins! Frances C. Stimson. comicbooks.com