Life, 1913-10-09 · page 14 of 44
Life — October 9, 1913 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**Top Cartoon ("Life's Noise Department"):** A satirical piece mocking excessively loud bands. The cartoon shows a chaotic brass band with the caption "Our band can be heard farther than any other brass band in town." The accompanying article humorously describes "Life's Band Number One" and other orchestras that specialize in producing maximum noise—featuring boilers, steel rails, and steam whistles alongside instruments. This mocks both the competitive boasting of amateur bands and the era's fascination with volume and novelty. **Bottom Poem ("Any Publisher to any Automoblist"):** A satirical verse lamenting that automobiles have replaced book-reading. The poet laments that the public now obsesses over cars rather than literature, comparing this negatively to earlier intellectual pursuits. The author (W. T. Larned) suggests automobiles represent a loss of cultural refinement.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LUFE'S BAND Nod Life's Noise Department BEDIENT to a popular—we may say clamorous—demand on the part of the American people, we have opened up a Noise Department, and noise of every description will be furnished at any hour of the day and night. Our band can make more noise in a mimute and can be heard farther than any other brass band in town. It con- tains, among other instruments, a real boiler, a set of steel rails, and a ten by ten sheet-iron vibrator; also steam calliope with fog horn extension, copied after the original in the Eddystone lighthouse. It is known as Life’s Band Number One. Only the strongest men are employed in it. It is especially suit- able for restaurants and roof gardens. Our Family Orchestra, Number Two, will raise any ordinary roof. If you are giving a dinner party and want to make sure of not hearing any of the conversation, this orchestra will fill a long-felt vacuum. We also employ a staff of conversa- “Our Family Orchestra, Number Two” Any Publisher to any Automobilist The public no longer reads books; it is obsessed by the automobil= craze—A Distinguished Publisher in a Very Distinguished Magazine. O PUBLIC weaned from printed page We knew that you cared naught for Keats, That Coleridge only caused you rage, That William Wordsworth merely bleats. Ah, yes, we fear that Aristotle Inclined your hand toward the throttle. For you we have in turn eschewed Each thing that was too hard to read. And yet, O black ingratitude, You simply will not slacken speed! “ Knowledge is power,” you learned at college, But forty horse-power’s hardly knowledge. ee eee That Stevenson's a little slow For those who read the daily press, That Thackeray's thin, Dumas de trop, Yes, we were coming. to confess. But, ah! that you should close your coffers To what our modern author offers. Words, idle words! The motor’s throb Prevails above the bookman’s plea. Safe in his study from the mob, He seeks communion? No, not he. Books are his business. In his leisure— Honk, honk!—he finds that car a treasure. W. T. Larned. comicbooks.com