Life, 1918-08-01 · page 5 of 36
Life — August 1, 1918 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes war profiteers during World War I. The poem by Richard Le Gallienne criticizes businessmen who grew wealthy supplying the military while soldiers suffered and died. Key targets include: - Those hoarding wheat and meat meant for soldiers - Profiteers with "large office suites" avoiding military service - "Greed" prioritized over soldiers' welfare The illustration "A Yankee Dream" depicts a soldier confronting a profiteer, with the caption sarcastically suggesting the profiteer recite the Declaration of Independence and national anthem—implying such patriotic words ring hollow from someone enriching themselves while others fight. The satire attacks the moral hypocrisy of war profiteering: commercial gain justified by patriotic rhetoric.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Ballad of the Profiteers HORT shrift for the common rogue, perdie, And the voltage swift or the gallows-tree For the simple fools That break the rules In the common way with the common tools: Burglar’s jimmy, or bullet or knife; Thirty years, or a life for a life. Not for them are the law's delays! Not for them the long-drawn appeal— Too crudely did they kill and steal, And took such antiquated w Why had they not large office suites, Like fashionable thugs and cheats? Wringing from war and widows’ tears Immunity as—profiteers! Brave musketeers Are the profiteers, With their hoarded wheat And their rotten bread, And their stinking meat To the soldiers fed; And no aeroplanes,— And the money sped: And nothing to fear but some distant date When Congress may investigate. Yet, if truth were told, the foulest Hun That pollutes the all-enduring sun Is not so vile as this carrion thing That gorges on human suffering And rubs his hands, as the nations bleed, Cold to all other dreams but—greed. While your honest knave has no shred of hope, A YANKEE DREAM But he needs must swing on yon hempen rope; “THAT'LL DO FOR KISSING THE FLAG, NOW YOU CAN RECITE There's something wrong, something mighty queer— E EW TIMES, AND AFTER That we have no rope for the profiteer. THAT | WANT Y¢ 0 THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER,’ AND Richard Le Gallicnne. SEE THAT YOU GET THE WORDS RIGHT.” comicbooks.com