Life, 1918-11-14 · page 13 of 34
Life — November 14, 1918 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two unrelated pieces of satirical content: **"The Whirligig of War"** (top): A short romantic story about a woman rejecting a man because she loves another—an airman from Canada. The satire appears to mock wartime romantic entanglements and the emotional complications soldiers face. **"If There Were No Restrictions as to What We Send the Boys Overseas"** (bottom): A sketch showing civilians enthusiastically packing goods. The satire criticizes unrestricted sending of supplies to soldiers abroad, suggesting people would send impractical or excessive items rather than necessities. **"Why Pav a Dentist?"** and **"By Our Trained Pessimist"** are separate opinion pieces offering cynical social commentary. The page reflects WWI-era concerns about the home front's relationship to the war effort.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
| Penna UNCLE ToM’S CABIN UP TO DATE The Whirligig of War “VOU are the wrong man,” she said. “T love another.” He stood there perplexed, his bou- quet of roses in his hand, looking at her dumbly. “When T went away I was the right ” he said at last. “Yes—I know. But another came— I saw the feeling I had for you was not—the real thing, Iam sorry. But I love him.” His face beamed with joy. “How wonderful!" he exclaime afraid it would be terribly hard. came to break it to you. But you have made it so easy. 1, too, love another. So it’s all right. By the way, who is the man you love?” “He's an airman from Canada. And yours?” “A girl from France.” HERE'S an H of a difference be- tween an un-conditional surrender and a Hun-conditional surrender. Winter Roses BOUT my garden wall, In these bleak days and ashen, The snowflakes float and fall In feathery fashion. For blossoms that have been No grief my heart discloses; On my love's cheek within I find my roses! Clinton Scollard. WHY PAY A DENTIST? By Our Trained Pessimist EATH is of no consequence except to thosg who are alive I am a pessimist because I tried to be an optimist. Hope—the ordnance department of the soul. Illness from health Truth—what we have, or will, dis- beli Literature—the apotheosis of the su- perfluous. comes undisciplined ve in, The future—a recollection. Every contentment is the stone of some future calamity. corner- A woman's entire wisdom consists in appearance. Poverty is the only success some people have. TRIKE if you must, but strike with a gun! To halt, not business, but the Hun! comicbooks.com