Life, 1920-04-08 · page 26 of 44
Life — April 8, 1920 — page 26: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This 1910s *Life* magazine page mocks New York State's ballooning debt—which grew from $660 to $200+ million in 25 years. Poet Arthur Guiterman's "Ode" sarcastically "praises" this debt while cataloging its sources: corrupt "Legislative Bunko Games," canal graft, questionable public works, and outright theft disguised as legitimate spending. The satire's punch: politicians cheerfully pass fiscal irresponsibility to future generations ("Posterity"), joking they'll "burn your Oaks and Pines" and "waste all your Wells and Mines" while sending posterity the bill. The accompanying cartoons reinforce themes of waste and political corruption—figures like "Sour Grapes" (left) and "The High Cost of Dying" (right) suggest broader systemic failures. The satire targets both corrupt politicians and wealthy citizens ("Tax-Dodgers") who escape paying their share, leaving ordinary people to bear the burden.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“LIFE: Ode to the New York State Debt May not seem 4 la mode; And yet The lyric code Pronounces that Is due a Debt. an Owed Dear, dear Expensive Debt, Debt of the Empire State, To you I ululate, For you I bow my clarinet, O Truly Great! And while I cannot hide (Forgive my Local Pride!) That our own Gotham owes a Big Round Billion, With all civility, Sweet Liability, T'll praise your generous Two Hundred Million! Three cheers !— Illustrious Arrears! Stupendous Obligation, What scheme of Augmentation, What Enterprise Unbounded made you grow? For, only five-and-twenty years ago, Six Hundred Dollars and but Sixty more Was all your score And now ?— Ab, how I worship you!—and, meanwhile, drop a tear Because I was not born a Financier! Reveal, reveal! our good Comptroller's Pet, What made you such a Creditable Debt? How much of you is due for Feasts and Shows, For Capitols with Domes and Porticoes And Marble Wings? How much of you is due for Jobs and Deals, Canal-improvement Graft and Steals And suchlike things? How much of you is due for Trumped-up Claims, How much for Legislative Bunko Games Adroit and deft? How much of you can we show value for? How much of you spells Waste, and how much more Plain Theft? Highway nificent Arrearage, Tell, I pray you, As there must be a clearage, Who's to pay you? Since Millionaires—the miserly old cod- gers!— Are all (the Press declares) Confirmed Tax-Dodgers, And We the People (who would love to settle) Are sadly destitute of precious metal And current legal tender,—of a verity, We'll have to turn you over to terity !— Posterity !—for whom we oft profess Such depths of tenderness ; Posterity !—to whom we dedicate The Books this Era can’t appreciate Posterity!—to whom we leave the work That we so gaily shirk,— No matter that you didn’t help to make it This Precious Debt is take it! yours — here, Hopeful Posterity, Wishing prosperity To thee we trill: We'll burn your Oaks and Pines, Waste all your Wells and Mines, And, for our monkey-shines, Send you the bill! Arthur Guiterman SOUR GRAPES) CHICAGO | THE HIGH Cost OF DYING. “NOT ACCEPTASLE.” comicbooks.com