Life, 1912-02-15 · page 9 of 44
Life — February 15, 1912 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces: **"A Word About the Dreamy South"** — A poem by Wallace Irwin satirizing the romanticized Old South. It mocks the contrast between nostalgic imagery (cane-brakes, palmettoes, Charleston) and modern reality: "bustling cotton-broker," subway lines, and Wall Street activity replacing the antebellum fantasy. The "dreamy South" is portrayed as a myth that wealthy industrialists now exploit. **"Our Unliquidated Civilization"** — A satirical piece criticizing national debt and government spending. It questions whether American "civilization" is actually paid for, noting that states, cities, and the government are deeply indebted. The accompanying cartoon shows a woman scolding a hungry child for crying, offering "bananas" instead of real food—a visual metaphor for government offering empty promises instead of genuine financial responsibility. Both pieces critique economic illusion masking reality.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“LIFE: A Word About the Dreamy South S I roam through Northern ghettos, Suicidally inclined, ‘Thoughts of cane-brakes and palmettoes Come (by contrast) to my mind, And the taste of Creole creamy Chicken mocks my yearning mouth; Vagrant memories of the dreamy— Say! where is the “‘ Dreamy South ”? They are planning lofty “ scrapers ” Down on Charleston’s real-estate ; You should read the Southern papers For the baseball slang to date. And in New Orleans, protected By the lordly river’s mouth, There’s a subway line projected— Say! where is the “‘ dreamy South ”? Now, the bustling cotton-broker And the rich tobacco man Occupy the Pullman smoker And inordinately plan Booms on land where Uncle Remus Once reclined in weeds and drouth; They are waking Nicodemus All along the “ dreamy” South. And among the Wall Street raiders, When some fresh young blade appears Driving off the Yankee raiders With his keen lamb-trimming shears, Then Fortuna, Mammon’s mother, Opens wide her golden mouth And exclaims, “ Well! here’s another Hustler from the ‘dreamy’ South!” If some scientific bookworm Muckrakes Dixie’s inner tum— Well, I wish J had a hookworm Of the sort I find in some. For that worm makes genius fertile And he never caused a drouth In the heart beneath the kirtle Of the (erstwhile) dreamy South! Our Unliquidated Civilization T is true we have a civilization, but it is not paid for, and our statesmen show no great anxiety to pay for it. On the contrary, every new move, and many of the old ones, require more bonds, more debts. Our National Gov- ernment is in debt. Our States, counties and cities are in debt. Every political division is in debt and paying in- terest. It seems to be an integral part of civilization. The first thing China did upon showing signs of civilized activ- ity was to come over here and borrow money of our Mr. Morgen & Co. It is even proper to ask, Whose civilization is it? Can't we get hold of it somehow and convert it to the uses and purposes of ourselves? Wouldn't it be a good idea to take it over, pay for it and thereafter run a civilization which is able to pay as it goes and go as it pays? “‘M MMA, who is in command of the army of the un- employed?” he captains of industry, my son.” Wallace Irwin. BATHING — Seersee ft | ens oH LE Nice Old Lady: My stars! 4 Nice, PAT LITTLE BOY LIKE YOU SHOULDN'T BE CRYING, The Kid: THAT AIN'T PAT, MiSSIS, IT’S BANANAS, comicbooks.com