Life, 1920-09-09 · page 28 of 44
Life — September 9, 1920 — page 28: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct pieces of American satire, likely from the 1910s-1920s: **"Local Gossip"**: A humorous rural anecdote about Seth Bowcher, a brass band horn player whose powerful note at a foundry is mistaken for the noon whistle, causing workers to stop. The satire mocks small-town life and the loud, disruptive nature of amateur musicians. **"Ballad of Content"**: A soldier's poem expressing frustration about being left behind during WWI—assigned to stateside duty (lumber work, west coast barracks) while others fought in France. The refrain "Uncle Sammy—he knows" sardonically suggests the government is aware of their sacrifice but ignores it. The satire critiques the thanklessness soldiers faced for unglamorous wartime service. **"Ex-Army Officer" cartoon**: An officer compliments a woman on her drill-sergeant qualities, likely satirizing either women's military auxiliary roles or post-war employment of women in traditionally male positions. **Food distribution cartoon**: Commentary on election-year politics—suggesting the government should distribute food to soldiers' wives to secure their votes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LOCAL GossIP Seth Bowcher has been a-playin’ the big horn in the brass band, but last Tuesday he like to killed the hull outfit. They wuz a-marchin’ down Main Street, headin’ over to the Fair Grounds, and a-playin’ “ Marchin’ Through Georgia” full blast, and jest as they gut to the railroad crossin’ they gut to the chorus, The engineer whistled, but Seth wuz a-making so much noise they paraded right over. Missed the last drum- mer by a couple o’ feet. That wa'n't the worst, though. Seth took his instru- ment down by the foundry to practice the next day, an’ he was a-tootin’ pretty good when he come to his favorite note, and he ketched a good breath and let her have it, and I vum if the hands didn’t think it was the noon whistle, and they all knocked off work. Ex-Army Officer: GOSH, JANB, WHAT A GREAT DRILL- SERGEANT YOU'D HAVE MADE! Ballad of Content A THOUGHT for our paternalistic government: Why not take measures to distribute food to the husbands of all H, I'm a reg'lar sojer and the bands don’t play fer me ihoseswomen shoiwill yote‘on:thercoming- Election Day? I ain't been any hero, and I ain't been over sea. I've just been in a barrack with a jolly pluggin’ lot, Keepin’ cases fer the fella’s that went over to be shot. * But—Uncle Sammy—he knows! And you can bet yer I knows! And if nobody else knows—why, wot in the 'ell care we? Oh, I was bossin’ sprucers when my buddies went to France. I had been ten year a sojer, but I didn’t get a chance. They shipped me to the west coast in a barrack by the sea, And they left me doin’ duty like a blasted lumberjee. But—Uncle Sammy—he knows! And you can bet yer I knows! And if nobody else knows—why, wot in the ’ell care we? And when the boys come home, the girls all met 'em on the bay, Fer we was doin’ service in a unromantic way, And we never heard a whisper of our “ steady, faithful grind.” But you didn’t hear us grumble—and I guess we didn't mind. Fer—Uncle Sammy—he knows! And you can bet yer I knows! And if nobody else knows—why, wot in the 'ell care we? So—I'm still in the service, and I has a vague idee That I'm here to do a lengthy hitch. It’s. good enough fer me. I wears my khaki with a pride—I keeps my leggins bright— And I stands retreat a very happy hombre every night. Fer—Uncle Sammy—he knows! And you can bet yer I knows! And if nobody else knows—why, wot in the 'ell care we? Joseph Andrew Galahad. THE Horse THIEF comicbooksRgiyy