Life, 1916-10-05 · page 14 of 42
Life — October 5, 1916 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This cartoon uses golf as a metaphor for American politics. The Common People are the "Tee," while the Statesman is the "Player." Various political figures are identified as obstacles: - The Tariff = "Big Business" - Mid-iron = "Foreign Vote" - Mashie = "Labor Union" - Putter = "Press" The joke: these four groups constantly interfere with the statesman's ability to govern effectively. The Ball (labeled "THE THREE H'S") complains of being "knocked about so unmercifully and put me in a hole at last?"—suggesting political problems get passed between competing interests without resolution. The satire critiques how American politics involves constant conflicts among business, foreign voters, labor, and media, preventing effective governance. The date and specific political context remain unclear from the visible text.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
572 must be something the matter with him.” The girl's father caught the young man squarely by the shoulders and faced him about. “He kissed me at the station—before everybody!" sobbed the girl. “Then he kissed mama and the maid and Aunt Jane.” “What is the meaning of this?” said the girl's father, sternly. “How dare you, sir, abuse our hospitality?” The young man shuddered. Mis eves closed. Still in the clutch of his host, there was a tragic silence. Then he opencd them once more and gazed feebly about him. He passed his hand wearily over his forehead. “Forgive me!" he w is not my fault. I live in bachelor quarters in town. My friends had all gone away and there was nothing for me to do but go to the moving picture shows night after night. I have been doing this for weeks. In the moving pictures the young man hero kisses everybody he meets. It’s the regular thing—nothing but kissing, kissing, all the time. My mind has been unhinged by it. Forgive me and take me to some asylum.” Then he burst into tears, threw his arms about the old gentleman—and kissed him. And they led the poor wretch away. T. L. M. Political Golf HE Common People, as grains of sand, were the Tee, and the States- man was the Ball. “Why,” asked the grains of sand, “are we crowded together just to make an elevation for you, and ‘to send you off on your junkets?” The Driver was Big Business, and the M ‘on was the Foreign Vote, and the Mashie was the Labor Union, and the Putter was the Press. “Why,” complained the Ball bitterly to all four, “do you knock me about so unmercifully and put me in a hole at last?” But the Boss was the Player, and he was the only one that scored. THE THREE H'S \wett tla esa