Life, 1919-08-07 · page 13 of 44
Life — August 7, 1919 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains several satirical pieces about American life and politics: **Top illustration**: "Seth Bone is Living at a New York Hotel" depicts a scene with well-dressed figures, accompanying text about Native Americans' assimilation into American society, referencing their adoption of American customs and language. **"Wind" poem**: A dramatic poem by Benjamin De Casseres using wind as a metaphor for chaos and cleansing force. **"A Word of Advice for Rockland"**: Satirizes Prohibition enforcement in Maine, criticizing the increased fines (from $5 to $10) as ineffective. The piece mocks that this harsher penalty won't deter drinking, only encourage corruption. **Bottom illustrations and jokes**: Include social commentary on financial mistakes and urban behavior, typical of Life's humor column format. The overall tone reflects early 20th-century American anxieties about Prohibition, urbanization, and class distinctions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
SS, hicago says, ill be nasies and ia ay te ) help overed owing jn the which, it, We neviki. er of come world. ng to eves there, e dis vera ver by ind ia LIFE EAS LIVING AT A NEW YORK HOTEL have ever heard of a supreme being, although there is a tradition that an aborigine named Ham Lewis once referred to Woodrow Wilson in a structure called the Auditorium, used as a place of refuge for politicians every four years. To sum up. The Chicagoans have a language of their own, but no religion, no literature, art, music or drama. It is thought, however, that in a comparatively short time they will be readily affiliated with the A Word of Advice for Rockland Is the good old days when ordinary Prohibition obtained in Maine, the individual who got himself all boiled up and rolled in the gutter of Rockland was fined five dollars and eighty-four cents. Now that super-Prohibition has gone into effect the fine has been doubled, and the man who is so affected by hair-tonic or other Maine beverages that he cannot navigate Rockland properly is separated from eleven dollars. To the casual observer, Rockland doesn't seem to be going about the matter in the right way. A fine of five dollars and eighty-four cents didn’t deter people from getting drunk in the old days, and a fine of eleven dollars won't deter them in these more extravagant days. The present era is one of charging all that the traffic will bear: consequently Rockland should enrich herself by charging residents or visitors at least a hundred dollars for the privilege of getting disgustingly mulled. Eleven- dollar fines will not only never make the city wealthy, but they may even be an inducement for outsiders to come to Rockland and get drunk. Rockland seems to have rather exaggerated ideas concerning the value of eleven dollars, Profiting by Mistakes TOCK DEALER: And yet he always has money. DatryMan: Sure. Whenever he makes a mistake he writes about it and sells it to a magazine. I never saw such_a poor farmer. Wind IND! Wind! Wind of the snarl and wind of the sob, Wind of the raucous-murderous lunge Rodin of the clouds, Angelo of the sea, Lash me and lave me and rinse out my brain! Wind! Wind that batters the peak and the pine, Wind that gambols with the light of the stars, Breath of Titania, Thunder of Thor, Swish me and swirl me out of my flesh! Wind! Wind! Wind that knocks on the doors of the dead, Wind that pummels the bergs of the North, Lash of a Fury, Caresser of daisies, Grave on my forehead the lustre of Light! Benjamin De Casseres “WHAT IS THE CHARGE, OFFICER?” “ DRUNK AN’ DISORDERLY, YER HONOR, HE WAS CELERRATIN’ THE DRY VICTORY.” comicbooks.com