Life, 1922-03-16 · page 13 of 34
Life — March 16, 1922 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The top cartoon depicts a rural scene where a woman and child observe a mule-drawn cart, with dialogue about the mule "starting to run" and breaking its "neck." This appears to be a simple rustic humor sketch without obvious political content. Below is a poem titled "No, Thank You" by Barton Blakey, attributed to someone declining the position of French Prime Minister. The poem satirizes the job as exhausting and thankless—referencing the "Gallic House of Deputies" constantly "booing its premiers" and the strain of the role. The right column contains "The Inopportunist," a humorous anecdote about someone's unsuccessful job applications, mentioning court positions and a "State Enforcement Director" role. These pieces reflect early 20th-century American satirical commentary on political instability and employment frustrations.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
ubber apply rs, more ve if n one y the vould and | vould @ ac. n, the | not roads rfect- € eX costs oked! x the vould aight maps “Look a’ heah, Eph. ef dat mule ov yurn starts to run he’s gwine to break his The Inopportunist IRST of my classmates | had met in eight y . hailed Pete enthusiastically. “Well, how’s the old gang? How are they doing?” 1 asked after the first wild greetings were over. “Fine!” Pete assured me. “Great! Everyone’s making money, thanks to Mr. Vol- stead —thirst in the hearts of his countrymen. “Remember old Ed Spur- gins?” he ran on. “Going over hig. Town house. Coun- try home. Four cars. Best cubs. Pays alimony in three states. All the luxuries. Of course, he got in on the sub- cellar. so to speak. “And Tom Groggins. You recall him. Sallow young- ster. Bear at analytical chem. Math shark. Found a way to take the splinters out of wood aleohol. Never had to worry again. Clever chap, Tom. “Didn't overlook myself altogether,” Pete continued. “Couldn’t land a case for the “Dog gone *im! Dat’s what I wan’ him to do!” No, Thank You *M glad I’m not prime minister of France; I'd view the job with terror in my glance, Its tenure is so tenuous, Its strain so highly strenuous, One couldn't help regarding it askance! The Gallic House of Deputies appears Forever to be booing its premiers, While the chamber senatorial By a custom immemorial Either curses or assiduously jeers! It’s a hectic and exasperating job, For at ten o'clock the land is all athrob With your name in accents glorious, And at twelve you’ve grown notorious, And at one you’re madly fleeing from a mob. Quite unstable is the froth upon the sea, And a quicksand isn’t solid, you'll agree, But a minister’s authority, Based upon a French majority, Is unstable-est of all the things there be! I have worked and played about the world’s expanse, Tm really not afraid to take a chance, But I maintain an attitude Of everlasting gratitude That I am not prime minister of France! Berton Braley. neck!” first four years. The crowd at court called me the Gen eral Sessions Alman ap- peared once a year. Things are greatly improved now, though. I have four assist- ants and more work than I can handle. Sp izing in liquor cases. Great!” One faint hope remained. “What of Phil Toomey?” Pete smiled indulgently. “You can’t know what Phil’s doing, or you wouldn't he said impressively. “He’s a State Enforcement Director, that’s what he is.” “And you,” my friend con- tinued, solicitously. “How are they treating you?” For a moment the words would not come. “Oh, I think it will be all right,” I answered at last. “My creditors are really a decent sort and they are go- ing to agree on a settlement.” “You see,” I confessed brokenly, “you see, I’ve been buying the stuf J. K. M. comicbooks.com