Life, 1913-12-25 · page 36 of 41
Life — December 25, 1913 — page 36: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page combines a whiskey advertisement with a sentimental poem about Christmas experienced by homeless vagabonds and their dog. **The Advertisement** (left): Cascade Pure Whisky uses the phrase "No friend like an old friend" and "Mellow with age—its first friends are friends to-day," featuring a bottle and vintage imagery. This is straightforward product marketing. **The Poem** (right): "Christmas on the Road" by F. Dana Burnet romanticizes the Christmas experience of poor traveling men ("vagabonds") and a stray yellow dog. The speaker contrasts the wealthy's candlelit homes with the "Light o' Christendom" visible in nature and accessible to the poor. The poem's sentiment—that the homeless and their companion dog possess spiritual richness despite material poverty—reflects early 20th-century sentimental attitudes toward the underclass. Rather than satirical, this appears intended as touching social commentary, suggesting that Christmas's true meaning transcends wealth.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
E: PURE WHISKY Mellow with age — its first friends are friends to-day. Original bottling has old gold label. A DICKEL & CO. Distillers Nashville, Tenn. Sever miaued so much in my over Copr. Life Pub. Co. “The Best Stories in the World,” collected compiled, edited and introduced by Thomas L. Masson, of Lire. $1 Doubleday, Page & Co., Garden City, N Rarer este mn 7] Christmas on the Road yes the gray o’ Christmas mornin’ when we struck the open road, Behind us in the wakin’ glowed— The little lights o’ Christmas-tide, that stand upon the trees And warm the hearts 0’ vagabonds across the Seven Seas! town the lights o’ Christmas Across the wide, wide seas, Laddie, where you and I ha’ gone, And de’il a light is lit for us adown the Christmas dawn; But all the road's a gift, Laddie, and all the world is ours, And there'll be Christmas candles when we lift the winter stars! You're nothin’ but a mongrel, with a mem'ry for a tail, An’ your ‘ide is lemon-yaller, an’ your pedigree is pale, But to-day you'd be plumb precious—if you weren't so bloomin’ sad !— Cause it’s Christmas, Laddie, Christmas—an’ you're all I ever ‘ad. It's Christmas on the road, Laddic, so kick “eels an’ go— The little lights 0’ Christendom are shinin’ your on the The lights are on the trees, Laddie—Lor’ how the windows gleam! An’ all I’ve got’s a yaller dog, to keep the Christ- mas dream. . . The rich they set their candles on their blinded window- sills, But all the Light o’ Christendom is streamin’ from the ‘ills— An’ you an’ I shall trail it to the twilight—or beyond, So Merry Christmas, Yaller Dog—you precious vagabond! The rich are none so gay, Laddie, they bear load; But yaller dogs and ragged men, they walk the open road. So turn you to the dawn, Laddic, and kick your ’cels an’ go— The fairest Day 0’ Christendom is shinin’ on the snow! F. Dana Burnet. eary