Life, 1917-12-06 · page 75 of 92
Life — December 6, 1917 — page 75: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains **mixed editorial and advertising content**, not political cartoons. The left side features poetry: "My Doggie" (sentimental verses praising a dog's loyalty) and "To the Chair" (a dramatic narrative about a man awaiting execution—though the twist ending reveals he's actually in a **dentist's office**, not facing capital punishment). The humor relies on misdirection; readers expecting tragedy discover mundane dental anxiety instead. The right side is dominated by a **Parker Fountain Pen advertisement** targeting military gift-givers during wartime, emphasizing the pens' reliability and safety-sealed design to prevent ink leaks on uniforms. Lower advertisements include tailored shoes, laundry services for sale, and an "Individuality" clothing service. There are **no political cartoons or caricatures** on this page. The content reflects early-20th-century Life magazine's mix of light satirical writing and commercial advertising.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- CHRISTMAS My Doggie (An Appreciation) 'Y doggie, 'tis to you, Faithful and ever true, To you I speak; Dog of your master’s pride, Dog with a heart inside, Your lips have never lied, Your soul is meek. My foxy doggie, you— Quite energetic, too— Your tricks I like; I like your bark applause, Your quick tail—nose and paws, The way you keep my laws When forth we hike. My doggie, you're true-blue! Right now I promise you— You'll ne'er be sold; Long may you jump in glee, Long may you live for me— Beast of nobility, Your heart’s pure gold! To the Chair ROM where he sat he could sce the narrow door through which he was so soon to pass. In the outer chamber, his compan- ions who were to follow him at differ- ing intervals, unless something almost a miracle should intervene, were strangely silent. He could hear an oc- casional rustle, betokening a change of position, less frequently a sigh, or something almost approaching a groan, but in the main, the whole room was strangely still. Were they thinking of what he was suffering, or were their thoughts on their own perhaps equal anguish? A. strange triviality pervaded his thoughts. In this moment he could look back, almost with a smile, on wakeful nights of torture, on the fit- ful sleep that followed with strange dreams, and the dull awakening to the days through which he did not actually suffer, but through which he was al- ways conscious of what had to be. ia your footwear is the secret of YOUR el- We make your shoes to your just asa Tailor makes your gown— your foot, your style and your own individuali Any Style—any Materials—any Colors, to match any costume. Write for booklet of models and self measurement instruction: NUMBER ONE Tre Mackie Baton Ostord, wade in any ‘material, with either Lous XV. of Coban Heels of ar et Bee $16.00. LAUNDRY FOR SALE cof owners only reason for selling. Information and Board of Trade data ca request. P.O. Box 1061. Orlando, Fla. "Fe (GAFETY-SEALED ) ENS FOUNTAIN R. the: boys at the ‘ont, for weeee ares; friends and sweethearts. The gift, always appreciated, always useful. Parker Self-fillers ore safety-sealed; the new type “no holes in the wall” fountain pens. Ink can’t get out to soil clothes or person. In event of ac- cident to interior mechanism, the pen ‘automatically changes’ from a Self-fller to a non-Self-filler without interruption Of service. Because of these exclusive features it’s the pen for the army and navy, where only dependable pens are wanted: Your search for suitable gifts is at end~decide on Pi FOUNTAIN PENS. The name is your et yt amt PARKER PEN CO., 306 Mill Sti, Janesville, Wis. New York Retail Store, Woolworth Bldg. hh Dariaty Gift A Bowes It was strange that at this moment his eyes could take in every inch of the grey wall, of the white curtains that shut away the world outside, even of the minute cracks in the floor. There were so much greater things on which his mind should dwell. From beyond the door he could hear vague sounds of preparation. He had never seen the chair, but he could pic- ture it to himself. What would be his thoughts as he sank into it? What would be his feeling as he closed his eyes to the final unconsciousness? A footfall on the other side of the door told him the final momeft had come. ‘As the door opened, he saw, glanc- ing at a card in his hand, the gentle- manly tooth-extractor, with a smile saying, “You are next, Mr. Jones.” J.S.M. comicbooks.com