Life, 1916-02-03 · page 14 of 48
Life — February 3, 1916 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**Top Section - "Unreported Birthbed Utterances":** This satirical piece imagines what famous historical and literary figures might say at life's end. The quotes mock their legacies: Julius Caesar worries about his reputation; Napoleon accepts island exile; Shakespeare promotes agrarianism; Plato frets about philosophers; Cleopatra prioritizes love over politics; Eve regrets fashion trends; Benedict Arnold toasts his successor. The humor lies in reducing these figures to petty or contradictory final concerns. **"Forlorn Hopes" Section:** Political commentary on the "Repudiated Pledge"—likely referencing a Democratic platform promise (possibly about single presidential terms). The article dismisses the pledge as ineffective political theater, noting only entities like the *San Francisco Argonaut* take it seriously. It suggests the pledge won't prevent Wilson's nomination or reelection. **"Visualized" Section:** A teacher-pupil joke about describing the navy: the pupil defines it as "ironclads surrounded by grape juice"—conflating naval warships with literal grapes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“LIE E - Unreported Birthbed Utterances of the Great Juttus Casar: 1 don’t look forward to that final scene in the Senate with much joy, but I'll make a name beforehand for myself, anyway. NAPOLEON Bonaparte: I see my finish—a term on the island, without bail, for attempted world conquering. Wiuram SHakespeare: Glad I’m born in a country town. This, if anything, ought to help the back-to-the- farm movement; and when the big cities come they'll need it. Prato: Think of holding me responsible for all those deadly philosophers who are coming after me! Creopatra: It shall be my sole mission in life to prove that love is greater than politics. Eve: Well, here goes! I regard it as a sacred duty to the rest of my sex to start those Fifth Avenue styles. Benepict Arnotp: Here’s to my able successor, Herr Hearst! 7 At the end of a “perfect day”: “HOME, JaMESH!” Forlorn Hopes HE Sun seems to be warming up a little, preparatory to the Presidential hoss-race that begins next June. It went around the ring on January 11th, to the extent of two columns, leaded, on “The Repudiated Pledge ”—said pledge being what was put into the Democratic platform at Baltimore about a single Presidential term. Anything to help the good Sun’s wind, and get the stiff- ness out of its venerable legs, but two columns seems a lot of space for such a subject, except in the Tribune. The “ Repudiated Pledge” isn’t going to cut any ice. The “pledge,” such as it was, was a mere butterfly net, foolishly devised to entangle a candidate who was not to be held by anything short of a bear-trap. It was a fake. No one has ever taken it seriously, and no one has attempted to use it in the business of politics, except entities like the San Francisco Argonaut, and now the Sun, who were deeply conscious of the advantage of beating Mr. Wilson, and desperately at loss to know how to go about it. If Mr. Wilson is beaten, either for nomination or re- election, it will have to be on his record as President. To trot out this ghastly “pledge” is a compliment to the Wil- son record, and argues that the hope to beat him on it is forlorn. S 7 Visualized 'EACHER: Describe the navy. Puri: A small body of ironclads, almost entirely Storekeeper: THERE'S THE SNOWBALL. NOW ALL YE GOT TO surrounded by grape juice. DO IS FIND THE KID THAT FITS THEM FINGER PRINTS comicbooks.com