Life, 1909-12-02 · page 33 of 80
Life — December 2, 1909 — page 33: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story critiques the vast wealth inequality of early 1900s America through bitter irony. The title "General Prosperity" is sarcastic: while the nation claims economic success, an elderly couple cannot afford a ten-dollar doll for their grandchild. The setup contrasts sharply: bustling Fifth Avenue department stores with Christmas abundance versus the couple's destitution. Key details underscore their poverty: bread costs six dollars a loaf, rent is eighty dollars weekly for a single back room, and they live in a converted mansion ("once been the home of a mighty banker") now subdivided into tenements. The couple's impossible choice—buy a toy or avoid eviction—exposes how "general prosperity" excludes the working poor. Their six grandchildren await Christmas gifts the elderly cannot provide. The story's "real moral" appears to be a call to conscience: genuine prosperity cannot coexist with such desperate poverty amid abundance.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
oP General Prosperity A Genuine Christmas Story, With a Real Moral to It N Christmas Eve, 1959, an old man and an old woman stood side by side in front of a brilliantly lighted store window on one of the busiest and gayest streets in New York. All about them was the hurly burly of Christmas Eve— the rushing crowds laden with packages, the lines of brilliantly lighted stores, the bustle, the joviality, the electric thrill in the air which comes with Christmas But in the midst of the bustle the couple stood stolidly in front of their revealing from their weather-beaten bats to their wornout shoes helpless age and hopeless poverty. “Oh, pa,"? said the old woman, “look at those little dolls. Aren't they cute? And only ten dollars! "" “Of course it’s ten dollars," replied the old man peevishly. “ Everything in the store's only ten dollars. Don't you sce the sign? It's a ten-dollar store.’” “T know,”’ said the old woman, “ But a doll for ten dollars is very cheap these days. I wish we could buy one for our little Mame. Don't you ‘spose,"" she added wistfully, “you could spare one ten-dollar bill to give your little girl a Merry Christmas?" The old man slowly drew a battered wallet from one of his ragged pockets and, unfastening it, thumbed over a roll of bills, “1 don't sce how I can, Martha,’ he mumbled. “There isn't enough of that small change to keep us from being put out in the street. Prices are rising again, too. Bread’s six dollars a loaf and go- ing up. And the landlord's raised the Tent on us again. Of course five dollars a week extra doesn't seem much; but when you have to pay eighty dollars a week for one back room on the top floor of a tenement you've got to be careful Take care chosen window, how you spend your dollars. of your dollars and your hundred-dollar bills will take care of th selves," he added with a feeble chuckle. said the old woman re- signedly. “I was just maybe you'd find a ten-dollar bill stuck some- where in the lining of your coat. Those little bills have a way of getting lost sometimes."" “No such luck for me.”’ de by side they shufiled through the holiday crowds of fth Avenue, until, turning a block to the east, they found themselves among the swarming tene- I know,"* hoping ments of Murray Hill. Entering a de- crepit mansion which, according to tradi- tion, had once been the home of a mighty banker and railroad king, the old couple toiled painfully up the ill-lighted stair- ways to their home or the top floor. Round the table, seated on boxes, were six children. “Hello, grandpop and grandma, chorused the six. “ What you got us for Christmas?" “Now, just your grand- pop and me what we can do,"” said the old woman untying her shawl The old man drew his tattered overcoat wait, and will see comicbooks.com