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Life, 1911-09-21 · page 19 of 52

Life — September 21, 1911 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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Life — September 21, 1911 — page 19: Life, 1911-09-21

What you’re looking at

This page contains satirical commentary on American politics and social customs circa early 1900s. **"Was Judas Fat?"** mocks a presidential candidate (likely Theodore Roosevelt) who campaigned as a tariff revisionist but reversed course upon election, "joyously betrayed his trust." The satire compares this political betrayal to Judas's treachery. **"In U.S.A."** is a two-line joke about American state laws, suggesting certain states are known for easy divorces or enabling financial crimes—a dark commentary on perceived legal corruption. **"A Child's Census"** is a whimsical poem by W.D. Nesbit listing imaginary household residents: "Mister Whizzy Whizzlewhizz" (punishment/discipline), "Bimblehammer" (chaos/mischief), and "Missus Ketchemfoolin" (consequences)—personified concepts meant to humorously explain child-rearing to young readers. The four circular illustrations show **"Development of Alaska,"** depicting territorial evolution through maps.

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

Was Judas Fat? E was not so represented by the early painters. Yet, why not? A betrayer enjoys betraying. Why should not a Judas, who enjoys judasy, be fat and smiling? We know a gentleman who said, when running for the Presidency: “T wish there to be no doubt as to the revision of the tariff. J am a tariff isionist.”” “ Tariff revisions should be immediate, and on the whole there should be a sub: stantial revision downward.” “Tariff duties ought to be reduced.” But when he became President he snapped his fingers in the faces of his electors and joyously betrayed his trust. And a fatter and more smiling gentle- man you will scarcely find between Maine and Texas. In the Dark ARY: Mrs. Talkem detained me for fifteen minutes at the telephone just as I was starting out Auice: What did she want? Mary: She didn’t say In U.S.A. RANDALL: I wonder which is the best State to live in. Rocers: That depends on whether you want to get a divorce or to steal money. proclaiming our victory, by the way, being one of the yellow journals mentioned in the count. We shall not take the trouble even to make public the source of the conspiracy against us, knowing as we do that it orig- inated with one of our former wives. The whole affair—except for the expense to the American people—is trifling. Our customers, on hearing of it, hastened to show their regard for us by presenting us with a bronze Cupid, which now occupies a prominent place in our office. In order to show our gratitude, how ever, we shall reduce our rates to all those who subscribe to the Bureau for the next four wecks. This is a special offer. If you are in any sort of domestic trouble end in your address and name and we will deduct ten per cent. from the amount of your bill. No matter how desperate your casc, we will consider it—unless you happen to be a Christian Scientist or a Mormon. Our experience has been that these are incurable. We do not guarantee suffragette cases, but we will take them, subject to conditions. Call, write or wire Huspanps’ Corresroxpexce. BurEau Tite “ DEVELOPMENT " OF ALASKA 473 A Child's Census TCEPTIN’ ma an’ pa an’ me n’ bruvver—yes, an’ Marfy, too; She lives here—she’s our cook, you see— I bet ‘ere’s somepin’ you can't do! bet you can't tell who else is A-livin’ in this house wiv us. re’s Mister Whizzy Whizzlewhizz "At hollers when we make a fuss. Sometimes he's hidin’ on th’ stairs, An’ when us boys is quarrelsome He poun’s th’ wall, an’ he ist rores Aroun’ an’ says he’s go’ to come An’ hesh us up, an’ mebbe take Us off to ‘at ‘ere place o' his Where he has hi-erd help to make Good boys for Mister Whizzlewhizz. An’ nen behime th’ kitchen range Is where ol’ Bimblehammer stays, An’ Marfy says ‘cy'll be a change Or else he'll take me one these days, Because I take th’ lifter thing An’ whack an’ hammer on th’ doors An’ nen—ist when I bang an’ bing— OF Bimblehammer he ist roars! An’ nen in my ma’s desk’s a place Where boys 'ey mustn't play wiv ink, Because ‘ey get it on ‘eit face An’ if they do, quick as a wink Wry, Missus Ketchemfoolin, she Comes out 0’ one ‘em cubbyholes An’ grabs th’ boys, "fore they can sce, An’ whips "em—hard !—wiv poles! fishin’ A's all ‘at lives here where we're at, Utceptin’ pa an’ ma an’ me, An’ bruvver, Marfy, an’ th’ cat— An’ sometimes in th’ night I sce OY Bimblehammer point his ban’ An’ hear him sayin’: “There he is! To Missus Ketchemfoolin’ an’ To Mister Whizzy Whizzlewhizz! W. D. Nesbit Short R ENTLY in Seattle in a cigar stand appeared the sign, “ We give $15.00 for 1909 Lincoln pennies.” No less a person was attracted by this than Judge Watson, He walked up to the counter and laying down a penny triumphantly asked for $15.00. The clerk took the penny, ex- mined it closely, asked if it were genuine, and after several minutes sighed and said he guessed it was good. “Certainly it is,” answered the Judge. “Where is my $15.00. “ Where,” said the clerk, “are the other 1908?” comicbooks.com