Life, 1916-01-27 · page 26 of 44
Life — January 27, 1916 — page 26: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes American neutrality during World War I through two pieces: **"No Sentiment, Please"** attacks the hypocrisy of those claiming America should stay neutral while prioritizing profit. It mocks the argument that commercial interests (worshipping dollars) matter more than moral outrage over Belgian atrocities, German attacks on civilians, and American deaths at sea. The piece ridicules the contradiction: if sentiment shouldn't drive policy, why does financial self-interest? **"Law and Order"** uses dark comedy to mock British priorities during the Blitz-like Zeppelin raids. A mistress remains obsessed with domestic propriety—hat straightening, not waking the cook—while bombs fall around them. When her room is damaged, she's angered not by the bombing but by the mess to her freshly-cleaned space. She complains to authorities about "marauding Germans" as if it's a minor inconvenience. Both pieces mock those who prioritize commercial neutrality and social convention over genuine human suffering during wartime.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
162 No Sentiment, Please If we ought to be in this war as a mat: ter of sentiment, then all his successful efforts to uphold American rights with- out going to war are a national reproach. —The New York World on President Wilson's foreign policy. HEN Belgium's sons and daughters are murdered in their homes, When German shells spell ruin to her cathedral domes, When innocent Americans to briny death are sent, We humbly beg of everyone—don't yield to sentiment! right to yield to dollars—we worship them, you know. ‘Tis right to be commercial—our duty tells us so. Prosperity for neutrals like us is Heaven meant. But don’t give in to profitless and sickly sentiment ! Law and Order Scene: A sitting-room occupied by a lady knitting. Enter Martha, a maid. Martita (bursting into room, breath- lessly): 'Ere's the Zeppelins, M’m! Mistress (severely): Martha, you must knock before entering my room, and do straighten your cap. Martita (gaspingly): Yes, M'm; b-but we'll all be killed, M'm. Oh, wot'll we do! Wot'll we do! Misteess (impatiently): Pick up my worsted; and, Martha, you must not waken Cook; the last time she almost ruined my breakfast. “NO, MATAM 5 HIS STUMMICK ISN'T ACHIN’ NEAR AS LOUD AS IT Was!” VICTORY “HERE'S HOPING” Martina (still gaspingly): B-b-but they'll bomb us, M'm. (Crash in dis- tance.) They are bombing us, M’m, Help! Help! Mistress (sternly): Martha! Martua (sobbing, as another crash sounds): I c-can’t help it, M'm. I ¢-ca— Mistress: Be quiet! I want you to find the nearest policeman, and tell him that Mrs. Simpkins is greatly annoyed by the commotion, and wants something done immediately. And—just a moment —get me my writing-case. Martua: Yes, M'm. (Gets case ‘and leaves in a panic.) Mistress (writing): “To the Editor of The Times. Sir: What is the matter with the authorities in England? Twice, within the past fortnight, I have been bothered by the outrageous actions of a band of marauding Germans—" (Loud crash. Part of ceiling falls on table.) Mistress (brushing the plaster off): An this room just cleaned! Disgusting foreigners!