Life, 1917-04-26 · page 55 of 84
Life — April 26, 1917 — page 55: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**"The Bread Line" cartoon** depicts figures labeled with roles (Police, Politician, Profiteer) surrounding a glowing bread loaf, satirizing how various authority figures and opportunists control access to basic food—a reference to bread rationing or food scarcity, likely from World War I era. **"A Suburbanite's Prayer"** parodies biblical supplication language as a suburban gardener pleads with agricultural pests (potato bugs, birds, worms) to spare at least some crops. The satire mocks both the suburban gentleman farmer and the very real crop destruction threatening food supply. **"The Horrors of War"** cartoon darkly compares military shelling to an infestation of beetles destroying crops—suggesting that war's indirect consequences (pest damage to food production) rival direct combat as threats to civilian welfare. Together, these pieces satirize widespread anxiety about food scarcity and agricultural collapse during wartime, positioning pests and profiteers as equivalent threats to survival.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE BREAD LINE A Suburbanite’s Prayer OTATO bugs, spare me, I beseech thee, one potato plant. Of the many long and beauteous rows that greeted mine eye but last week there remains but one plant unscathed by thy vengeance. Blackbirds, leave me, I beg, one hill of corn. Of four- score and ten leafy hills which upturned their greenness to the morning sun but six short days ago one hill now ~ remains ungathered by thee and thine. Cut-worms, give me, I ask it, but one cabbage and one tomato plant for mine very own. Of twoscore and six selected plants which stood proudly in mine garden on Monday last but one of each remains to tell the tale of thy destruction. Thou squash and melon bugs, list to me in mine hour of sorrow, Give me one melon and one squash plant. These alone still stand unwrecked by thee in thy massacres. Robins, hear my supplications. Give me from mine strawberry patch one box of strawberries for mine truly own, unmutilated by thy ravages. Have pity on me, a toiler, O pests, and leave me but an atom that I may rave with those many others on the joys of agriculture! William Sanford. “YY/HERE are you going to take your children next sum- mer?” “I don’t know. The Board of Health hasn't made any plans for them yet.” THE HORRORS OF WAR REAT HEAVENS! HAS THE VILLAGE BEEN SHELLED?" HELLED NOTHING. THEY BILLETED A SELECT TROOP OF HUNGRY BEETLES ON US AND THEY TURNED OUT TO BE PUMP-