Life, 1919-03-06 · page 16 of 42
Life — March 6, 1919 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes **Prohibition** (the 1920-1933 ban on alcohol). The central poem mocks the coming "dry" era by cataloging absurd substitute drinks—malted milk, ginger beer, cider, sarsaparilla, grape juice, lemonade—that people claim will replace alcohol. The repeated refrain "Here's to Prohibition, drink it down" is ironic: you can't actually drink prohibition itself. The top cartoon shows **American laborers** toasting with these substitute beverages instead of real alcohol, captioned "Nothing doing!"—expressing working-class skepticism about Prohibition's appeal. The bottom illustration appears to depict a domestic/working-class scene, possibly related to Prohibition's enforcement challenges. The "Tabloid Shakespeare" section mocks contemporary culture: a woman sees *Macbeth* on film and is relieved she'll never need to read the actual play—satirizing both mass media's displacement of literature and modern impatience with serious art. The overall tone is cynical about Prohibition's imminent passage and its expected failure to change behavior.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
364 LIFE Dithyran.bics of the Coming Drought ND it’s will ye quati with me, my lads? And it’s will ye quaff with me? <a flagon of malted milk offer unto ye. drain the heaker dry, my lads! Pwill make ye smooth as sitk; And all my days I'll sing the praise OF chocolate malted milk Sober last night, soher the night before; Sober I'll be to-night and a good many evenings more. When I'm sober I’m as dull as I czn be, Vor |am a member of the Dry Familee. Glorious! Glorious! One carafe of cider for the four of us! Glory he to God there were no more of us, For | could have drunk the cider all alone. Come, listen to my ditty, from a temperance town I steer. Like every honest fellow, | drink my water clear. Like every temperate person, | drink my ginger beer; I'm a rambling rake of abstinence, a son of a sermoneer : ‘ * * Imerican Labor: NOTMANG WOINe \ Book of Verses underneath the Bough, \ Quart of Milk, a Loaf of Bread—and Thou Beside me, studying in some Public Park Vutting more Elevation on thy Brow ! Here's to Prohibition, drink it down, drink it down! Here’s to Prohibition, drink it down, drink it down! Here’s to Prohibition, For it betters your condition Drink it down, drink it down, drink it down! ere is a lunchroom in the town, in the town; And there my true love sits him down, sits him down; And drinks his cup of English breakfast tea. And always, always thinks of me Grape-juice, women and song. A little sarsaparilla for thy stomach’s sake Good lemonade needs no bush: Franklin P. Adams. Tabloid Shakespeare HE came home from a movie of “ Macbeth.” “Well, how was it?” she was asked, disappointed.” “Oh, it was all right,” she replied grudgingly. “And I'm awfully glad T went, because now I'll never have to read the play.” “You appear otic in spite of themselves, as the Germans refused to put 5 4 he uA p NO, MA'AM ; I SLIPPED ON A POTATO PEEL. AND BROKE ME 1% up the money WHEN I WAS DOING KITCHEN ‘a comicbooks.com