Life, 1919-08-21 · page 7 of 40
Life — August 21, 1919 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Life* magazine contains two distinct pieces: **Left side:** A poem titled "Sammy" by Captain W. W. Murray, celebrating a character named Sammy—apparently a working-class or military man known for toughness, fighting ability, and camaraderie. The verses use dialect and slang to humorously catalog his exploits and fearless personality. **Right side:** A cartoon titled "Too Depressing" showing a dejected figure sitting in shade during hot weather (90° indicated). Two picnickers discuss finding their previous picnic spot ruined by empty bottles—suggesting littering or past overindulgence. The man responds with exasperation about his frozen nose, implying either past frostbite or dark humor about winter hardships. The satire criticizes messy outdoor behavior and contrasts leisure activities with discomfort.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Too Depressing FIRST PICNICKER (looking for spot to spread the re- 0 atery past): This looks inviting Wy, it's an ‘istory, old as they mikes cin Secoxp Picxickea: But it's where we ate last year. We We tikes to some fellers, scraps all abaht a bit, couldn't stand it. Look—there are some of our empty ‘Oller an’ slraht a bit, "cause we jus’ likes 'em. bottles! There ain't no other wot we calls our brother ‘As we'd sooner ‘ave in the bubble an’ pitch; 'E’s firm as the Gib, an’ sife as the Bank, The feller we christened ol’ Sammy the Yank, Wren 'Uns is a-throwing ‘em over the Ditch. "A RK at ol’ Sammy, thinks it's a mystery; Sammy, ol’ feller, a reat sport you are; We're glad as we met vou got lots o° grit. You showed us yer cart w'en you came to the war, Sammy, ol feller, ‘cause you done yer bit Scrappin wiv Sammy’s a regular treat of ‘im; Ain't met the beat of ‘im; Sammy’s a fighter; Gives it back jilde w'en we tikes a crack at ‘im, Alway ketin’—sportin’ ol’ blighter Pickets is doubled an’ waters is troubled Wren Sammy an’ us gets arahnd in the town; We looks for each other, can never tell w'y; The sime up the Line—wiv a different eye, We're glad 'e’s abaht w'en the barrage comes down. Sammy, ol feller, jus’ flip us yer ’and; We fights an’ we yells an’ we mikes ail the noise, But over the top or a-walkin’ the Strand, Sammy, ol’ feller, you're one o’ the boys! Top ‘ole is Sammy ; go'blimey, ’e stuck wiv us, Right in the muck wiv us, takin’ ‘is bumpin’ ; Comes up a-smilin’ w’en ’e gets ‘is share of it, Y Don’t seem to care a bit, shrapnel or crump + That's the ‘ole story wy everythink’s gory 4 W'en Sammy an’ us ‘ops arahnd on the tear. ~ “Wallop” 's the word w'en we dekkos each other, Fights it aht strite like a pal an’ a brother, As friendly anythink, all on the square. Sammy, ol” feller, chin-chin, We drinks to yer ‘calth, for cr immense. If we scraps w'en the bugles 0’ Gabriel blow, go* IN THE SHADE Sammy, ol” feller, don’t tike no offense! , ; ' " BY Jove! WHAT A TREAT IT WILL BE TO HAVE ONE'S NOSE Capt. W. W. Murray, M. C. FROZEN AGAIN!" comicbooks.com