Life — November 17, 1910 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

825 The Modern Dante S° after a time, I pre- sented my pass at the gate where all hope and | | other inflammable articles must be abandoned. Mr. Mephistopheles at that moment drove up in an asbestos automobile and was welcomed solemnly by the head imp, who said: C= “Things are going strangely since you left.”” “How is that?’? asked Mephistopheles. “Lots of people coming here and in- sisting that they belong inside. I've ad- mitted them temporarily, waiting for you to return and decide the cases.” “We'll go right in and investigate,” declared Mephistopheles. “Come along, Mr. Dante. I've been roaming up and down for a good while and haven't been on the job. Perhaps I should have remained here to keep things in order.’ We entered and started on a tour of the infernal regions. Soon our attention was attracted by an unfortunate man who was resting uncomfortably upon a hot gridiron. Mephis- topheles asked him his name and former residence, then looked up his record in a little book. “Why, you shouldn’t be here at all,” he said. “ Why did you come?” APS Wackene “WIAT’S SAUCE FOR THE GOOSE IS SAUCE FOR THE GANDER." “THE EVOLUTION OP MAN."” “They told me I had to come. They saw me weeding my garden one Sunday afternoon and said I was lost.’’ “Get out of that frying pan, go to the gate and cool off until I come back.’* We passed along and soon found another man undergoing great torment. “How do you come here? "’ asked Mephistopheles. “7 went to the bail games on Sunday afternoon. They said I was a goner, and so I came direct here.’ “Go to the gate and get cool. Wait there for me.’’ So we journeyed on, past furnace, pot and kettle, over the brimstone lake, ever and anon pausing to question some one who evidently had no business to be where he was. One had come because he had gone swimming on Sunday, another because he danced; a woman had come because she played bridge, another because she attended the theatre, and so on. Each of them replied, when asked why he had pre- sented himself for punishment: “They told me I was wicked and would come here.”’ “You folks get out of here and don’t come back, or I'll have you ‘arrested for trespassing,’’ Mephistopheles cried. “This beats the devil! How am I going to make a success of this place if every reformer in the world tries to run it for me? Can’t I go away to rest for a few centuries without some one jamming the place full of undesirables?” I did not answer, for on the journey through hell I had been surprised at not finding some folks I had expected to see there; also at finding some others I had not expected to sce among the comparatively old inhabitants. I thanked Mr. Mephistopheles for his courtesy and left him in the midst of a discussion with the head imp over the ad- visability of making the short-weight ice dealers try to freeze enough ice in hell to make up for their shortages on earth, and the popular song composers listen to a medley of the ancient airs from which they had stolen their melodies. No Hope! “Do you expect justice?” “Not from such a judge. Why, I would as soon ex- pect mercy from a New York ambulance surgeon.” A TARIFF is known by the trusts it keeps. comicbooks.com