Life, 1923-09-20 · page 12 of 36
Life — September 20, 1923 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains **"A New Philanthropy" by Don Herold**, a satirical article about hospital noise pollution. The cartoon depicts a man on a Ford vehicle labeled "D.H. FREE HOSPITAL NOISE SERVICE," riding past a "Hospital Street" sign. Herold's satire targets the assumption that hospital patients should endure constant disruption. He ironically proposes creating entertaining street noise—bird calls, animal howls, motorcycles, even a circus calliope—to prove that hospitals are unnecessarily quiet, contradicting the popular "Make Interesting Noises" campaign mentioned in the article. The humor lies in **mocking hospital culture's obsession with silence** and suggesting absurd alternatives. The accompanying illustration shows crowded hospital visitors, reinforcing how hospitals were already far from peaceful places despite their supposed quiet requirements.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
At ‘A New Philanthropy By Don Herold EREAFTER I myself shall try to make more entertaining when I shall take pains to make queer, bewildering, amusing passing hospitals. and instructive noises. After spending a few days in a hospital I realize that the people who write those “Make No Noise” signs near hospitals know nothing about the requirements of hospital patients and convalescents. Noise is nourish- ment to them. In fact, it is all they have to live for. The folks who put up those anti-noise signs would take away the only pleasure that invalids enje would they! Not if this great magazine and I can stop them, (I shouldn’t be surprised if those signs were merely another manifestation of the censorship passion with some classes are consumed.) which The truth is that a hospital inmate simply lives from one truck to an- other, and strains his ears for whistles, with More than one and takes a new lease of life every street brawl. hospital recovery, for which science has taken credit, could be traced to loose fenders on a passing Ford. It is a mistaken idea that everybody in a hospital wants to sleep twenty-four hours a day. Any hospital patient will gladly wake up to listen to a horse with a sore foot, or one shoe off, or any other eccentricity of step. Let all of us try, then, to contribute something to the richness of the noise life of poor hospital patients. This is a philanthropy which the humblest of us can afford. As for myself, I intend to go into the thing quite earnestly, and to take THAT KID BROTHER OF HERS training and correspondence instruc- tion to make myself more useful in the vicinity of hospitals. I am right now devoting an hour a day to learn- ing all the bird calls, and wild animal howls and shrieks. And I am in th market for the funniest-sounding Ford I can find, one that is just on the verge of decomposition. I have joined a night class in trap-drumming, and expect to carry complete trap-drur mer equipment with me wherever | go, from now on, for use when pas ing hospitals. Some day I hope + buy a circus calliope. I hope that you will not only ta up this work yourself, but that y will urge others to join. Have y any motorcyclists among your friend If not, see if you can't cultivate few motorcyclis Even little ch dren can help; they should be ta to scream and holler when passing hospitals. Soon I hope to have all the prese: hospital signs changed to read: Hospitat Street. Make Interestine Notses. The Vichy Circle Twelve Stages in the History of Square-Faced Gin Bottle ANUFACTURED in 1918. Filled with the Real Thing. Sold to Henry Jones for $1.70. Stored in the cellar of Henry Jones Moved to the dining-room of Henry Jones. Emptied in the same dining-room Thrown in the garret of Henr Jones. Sold to Blitz, the bottle-man. Sold to Glutz, the bootlegger. Relabeled by Glutz, the bootlegger Filled with synthetic gin by Glut the bootlegger. Sold to Henry Jones for $5 in 1923 Life “B= saint affirms it might | worse— And takes a mystic anodyne. The sinner fronts it with a curse, Or tries to dodge it with a whine. The bard transmutes it into verse, And sells it at four bits a line. N.M. “A RE you going to build house of brick?” “Ye if we can interest any brick layers.” your comicbooks.com