Life, 1925-01-01 · page 5 of 37
Life — January 1, 1925 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three literary/humorous pieces rather than political cartoons: 1. **"New Year's Eve"** by Roger Burlingame: A poem about financial anxiety and resolutions, reflecting post-WWI economic uncertainty. 2. **"On the Five-Fifteen"**: A dialogue between Mr. McFord and Mr. Keele discussing urban life, stock market gains ("fire on the Bourse"), and financial concerns. References to "U.S. A. brew" suggest Prohibition-era America. 3. The accompanying illustration depicts a grotesque figure with exaggerated features—likely representing general anxiety or financial worry personified. 4. **Brief jokes** at page bottom about dishonesty and privilege. The overarching theme is economic anxiety and social observation typical of 1920s American satire, targeting middle-class concerns about money and propriety during the Jazz Age.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Tfe New Year's Eve HEN I observe the passing of the years, And naked babes and sere old men go by, And songs are sung in doubtful harmony, I find it easy to restrain my tears; And if my bank account is in arrears Or in excess, I must confess that I, Upon this fateful hour of destiny, Am prey to no especial hopes or fears I like to drink eggnog and sing a bit For Auld Lang Syne, if such may be my lot; But why, upon this hour, my should take New lease, I cannot see, nor change one whit; 1 only know, in fact, that it will not, Whatever resolutions I might make. Roger Burlingame. On the Five-Fifteen (Mr. Mefford and Mr. Keefe meet in the smoker for the first time since the crossword craze hit Commutiville.) R. M.: Aha, good e’en, Otto! Mr. K.: Oho, ave, Eli! : And how do the urban affairs comport? Ultra hale. I gained many lire on the Bourse during Oct., Nov. and Dec. Mr. M.: I have glee to hear thus, And—tchk! tchk!— you have not exhausted any of your earned reis on the dryads, naiads and nymphs of the ville? Mr. K.: Nay. I have a mate and am a sire. Ergo: Mr. M.: Ho, entirely. But it has been a sere and for my femme I have toiled buying adornments a bea, etui and sandals, Erst, I have an iota of negus in my pocket vial. Will you partake a jot? Mr. : Haply, aye, though I have newly been on the I confess I am as arid as an emu, and a dole would be of solace. Yet whence arrives this modicum of sack? Our U.S.A. brew, I ken, holds newts and efts. Mr. M.: I will be leal with you. One of my peons bore this de the Bermuda Aits and it is as the pot of or at the terminus of the iris. Nary a megrim in a tun. Mr. K.: Do relate! By Ra! I will conjoin with you with relish in a tittle then, for my velum is embroiled. Have you an urn from which to gulp? Mr. M.: Eros, non! But there are parchment ewers at the aft finis of the tram. Tarry, and I will secure ane. Mr. K.: Gracias ye. To the orts! Mr. M.: Bases up! water-van, Tip Bliss. For This Relief— ELL,” remarked the jaded sightseer as the sun went to eclipse, “that’s one thing less in the universe to look at.” it Goliath: CHASE YASELF, YA LITTLE GWAN HOME TO MOMMA, David:* No, sir! 1 pON’T GO HOME TILL I've HAD MY FLING, SHRIMP, Obliquity he really dishonest?” “Why, if he'd been born with a gold spoon in his mouth, would have had somebody else’s initials on it.” comicbooks.com