Category : What The Cartoonists Are Doing

What The Cartoonists are Doing, September 1916 (Vol.10 No.3)

[Cartoons Magazine, debuting in 1912, was a monthly magazine devoted primarily to reprinting editorial cartoons from U.S. and foreign newspapers. Articles about cartooning and cartoonists often supplemented the discussion of current events.

In November 1913 the magazine began to offer a monthly round-up of news about cartoonists and cartooning, eventually titled “What The Cartoonist Are Doing.” There are lots of interesting historical nuggets in these sections, and this Stripper’s Guide feature will reprint one issue’s worth each week.]

K . L . Roberts in Puck

Mindful of her past experiences with rabbit burrows, Alice slipped down a woodchuck hole in the hope that she might obtain material for another book. Luck was with her; for in a commodious chamber at the bottom of the hole, the woodchuck awaited her with an electric torch in one hand and his Leghorn hat in the other.
“Right this way,” said he politely. And without more ado he led Alice through a small doorway labeled: ” Cartoonland.”

Alice clapped her hands joyously. ” Cartoonland!” she exclaimed. “How nice! I hope I sha’n’t hurt myself laughing!”

But before she could hear the woodchuck’s answer, her attention was distracted by two men who appeared to be having a violent altercation.

“What strange looking men!” said Alice. “Why do they have crosses in place of eyes?”

“That is very simple,” replied the woodchuck. “In Cartoonland, whenever you see a person with crosses where his eyes should be, you will immediately know that he has either been hit with a brick, a club, or some other blunt instrument, or that he has been overwhelmed with the originality or unexpectedness of something which has just been said by the person to whom he has been speaking.”

“How peculiar!” said Alice. “Is it only in Cartoonland that such actions may be observed?”

“I know of no other place,” said the woodchuck. “Cartoonland, too, is the only place where people are always throwing things at one another and never missing. Every day, hundreds of men throw bricks at other men; and invariably the bricks land on the exact centre of the rear of the assaulted person’s head. Organized baseball is losing some marvelous throwers by failing to sign up all of Cartoonland’s leading characters.”

Lost in thought, Alice strolled onward. In a short time she came to a small pond, from the middle of which were coming loud cries of “Blub! Blub!”

“What queer sounds!” cried Alice.

The woodchuck smiled. “In Cartoonland,” said he, “any person who falls or is pushed into any body of water sinks immediately and gives vent to loud shouts of ‘Blub! Blub!’ from beneath the water. Cartoonland is the only place where a person can make sounds under water, and be heard by persons above the water.”

Before Alice could comment on this strange state of affairs, she was passed by a small dog and a tiny beetle. The dog was carelessly remarking, apropos of nothing: “See what the boys in the back room will have!” while the beetle was ejaculating again and again: “It’s nothing in my young life!”

“Tell me!” said Alice, “How can these creatures talk, and why do they say such strange things?”

The woodchuck shrugged his shoulders. “In Cartoonland,” said he, “the animals and the insects have their mating calls and their hunting calls, just as they do in other countries. In your country a dog says ‘Bow wow!’ or words to that effect; but in Cartoonland he says ‘See what the boys in the back room will have?’ or ‘Who’s looney now?’ or something equally appropriate and doglike.”

“And do all of the men talk a trifle ungrammatically down here,” asked Alice. “The two men we passed a short time back were saying that they didn’t ‘wanna’ go somewhere, and that they weren’t ‘gonna’ do something. Is such language customary?”

“Oh, invariably,” replied the woodchuck, “or practically invariably. You see, the idea is that people in Cartoonland must talk down to the level of uneducated people, instead of helping to remedy their lack of education.”

“Really,” said Alice, “I don’t believe that Cartoonland is much of a place. I think that I’ll go home. I don’t feel that I could write a book about my experiences down here.”

“Oh, but you mustn’t go yet,” protested the woodchuck. “Why, you haven’t seen a tenth of Cartoonland.” And he attempted to hold Alice by the sleeve of her gown.

But Alice was too infuriated to stay longer .

 James J . Lynch has returned to his drawing board in the Rocky Mountain News office after a honeymoon. His bride, Marie Kaffer, was a member of the News staff, and out of their association in newspaper work developed the romance. Jimmy Lynch, as he is best known, is one of the most popular newspaper men in Denver.

A Series of Cartoons That Has Awakened Milford
(From the New York Evening Sun)

Far away – so far away that trains cannot carry you there – lies the village of Milford, Pa. It is in the wooded and mountainous region of Pike County, where there are craggy cliffs and waterfalls, two pound trout and pickereled lakes … But then , this isn’t meant to be a railroad circular!

Instead, it’s the story of Milford’s new trolley system, and of how this is being built by the unconscious aid of Fontaine Fox and The Evening Sun.

It is the daily Fontaine Fox cartoon that Milford’s eyes most hunger for, and Milford’s hearts most smile upon. Fontaine Fox has somehow found the funny bones of these staid, weather-browned old French woodsmen and farmers.

The proof of the popularity is in the pasting. Fontaine Fox is literally pasted all over the village. The barber shop, of course, is covered with Fontaine Fox cartoons, which regale the lathered ones, the unshaven and unshorn, who wait their turn. The bazaar has its windows full of Fontaine Fox. So has the tobacco shop. And so, even, has the wall of the post office, itself. Fontaine Fox, clipped from The Evening Sun, is Milford’s mountebank as well as its tutor in art.

Milford is soon to have a trolley line. And Milford, realizing the benefits which will accrue unto itself from the improvement, is correspondingly impatient for the trolley line’s perfection. But trolley lines, like pretty girls, are slow in making up their minds. And this particular line though arranged and subscribed for many months ago, has not yet begun to build. Milford, having given its money, was reluctant to give time, too. And Milford grew cross and cranky and gave vent to pessimistic views about the crops and the possibilities of war.

Then, one day, old John the Barber gave a copy of The Evening Sun to a waiting customer. And in that particular day’s paper was one of the Toonerville Trolley series.

The waiting customer was French – as, indeed, most of Milford is. He could not understand the caption altogether; but the caption didn’t matter. He needed no full knowledge of the English language to appreciate the picture itself. The humor of it, of the old, tumbled-down car, of the leisurely, white-whiskered conductor, of the disgruntled passengers – hit hard upon the waiting woodsman.

That particular cartoon, cut out of the page with a pair of John’s hair scissors, went the rounds of Milford in an hour. Everybody looked at it, laughed at it, found in it something to remind him of his own trolley troubles. That one cartoon put the entire village in good humor. Fontaine Fox had taught Milford how to wait, how to laugh at the waiting — and how to regard trolleys!


Jack Cory, formerly cartoonist of the New York World, and one of the veterans, is now rusticating at Wadsworth, Ill., while drawing cartoons for his feature service. The sketch is by Perce Pearce of Waukegan.

H. T. Webster, author of “Our Boyhood Thrills,” has been in his day something of a traveler. While in Egypt a few years ago, he was greatly impressed by the universal demands made on him for “baksheesh.” At villages along the Nile hundreds of naked children followed him yelling for “baksheesh.”

“I can imagine,” he says, “the joyful scene in an Egyptian family when the baby first gurgles ‘baksheesh.’ The first tooth or the first step must be tame in comparison.”


R. M. Brinkerhoff is back at the New York Evening Mail after a two weeks’ visit and tour with the Sells-Floto circus. Brink went out on the sawdust trail to pick up some local color and is back with a lot of sketches of b’gosh types. Harold Webster planned to accompany Brink but at the last minute he found the lure of his new automobile too strong.


That the soul of a big cartoon idea knows no decay and has no death is shown in the continued receipt of print royalties by Mark Fenderson for his famous rooster cartoon with the caption “What’s the Use – Yesterday an egg — tomorrow a feather duster.” This drawing, made more than 10 years ago, has been reproduced millions of times and is still bringing laughs all over the world.


Charles Winner , who prior to 1914 was political cartoonist for the Pittsburgh Post, is now drawing cartoons for the woman’s suffrage cause .


The arrival of the German U-boat, “Deutschland,” was the inspiration of a notable cartoon in Ruy Blas, the satirical journal of the Paris boulevards. The cartoon shows an American mother gazing at a  German submarine lying safe in an American harbor. The mother says: “Look! That may be the same submarine that sank the boat papa was on!”

By Russell Henderson

Boardman Robinson might well be styled the premier exponent of impressionistic art in cartooning. I asked him one day when his work was attracting wide attention through the pages of the New York Tribune, by what authority he commanded a slap of shadow black to represent a nose. He looked up from his drawing  board, and said: “Do you observe?”

I thought I did. Whereupon he proceeded to demonstrate to me how little I actually did observe. He turned on an electric light that hung over his board, and told me to notice closely just what constituted a nose in light and shade as far as the black – and white art of the cartoonist went. I was amazed to find that the nose was thrown out in relief by a smack of shadow black.

The artist then told me how observant he was. He always carried a sketch book and pencils, he said, and never overlooked an opportunity to get a striking position or expression, no matter how embarrassing the experience might prove . He told me that he had several thousand sketches, and that he found them invaluable in his cartoon work, as he referred to them daily for poses, expressions, and even compositions. The constant use of a sketch book, he declared, was the best art instructor.


 If one were to speak of Mr . William Ireland in Columbus he might not be understood; but if he spoke the name of Billy Ireland, he would evoke a smile. There is a curious something that makes people like to speak of celebrities in intimate and familiar terms. But that is not the case in Columbus — everybody there loves Billy Ireland, and Billy is only short for “My dear.” His “Passing Show” page in the Sunday Dispatch is given up wholly to local whims, and the people like it. Bill Nye once said that Columbus may or may not have discovered America, but he would have to give Chris the credit since he had the best press agent. And thus it is with Columbus, Ohio . She has a good press agent, too.


Cassel of the New York Evening World was once a pupil of Frank Beard, who in his day was the dean of the temperance cartoonists. They were both connected with the old Chicago Ram’s Horn. Cassel later entered the illustrating field, and from there entered his present position as cartoonist. Speaking about temperance cartoons, May, of the Detroit Times, is drawing a series of 100 for the Michigan branch of the Anti-Saloon League. His services were bid for by the wet element, but the drys secured them.


Here is a wild story about the rise of Ed Mack from a position at nothing a week to one paying $200 a week on Hearst’s art staff. Prior to the Jeffries Johnson fight the Chicago Examiner was featuring the various offers from promoters. One day there came into the hands of the sporting editor a telegram offering $50,000 for the fight, and signed by the Sibley Athletic Club. The Examiner immediately got out an extra announcing the “scoop.” Soon after, however, hair was flying in every editorial sanctum of the paper. Some prying soul had discovered that Sibley was a town in Illinois boasting of 98 inhabitants. The editor looked into the matter and found that one Ed Mack, a gentleman of humor and ability to draw comics, had sent the telegram just to get it out of his system.

Whether the editor intended to bribe Mack to keep the secret to himself, or admired the originality of the young man, I know not. At any rate, the Sibley humorist was given a position as sporting cartoonist on the Examiner, and from Chicago he went to New York to draw the Katzenjammer Kids for Hearst. He is now putting out a new creation entitled “Life in Lonesomehurst.”


Brewerton, of the Atlanta Journal, took a vacation to Atlanta once about a score of years ago while working on the New York Herald. He fell so in love with Dixie Land that he immediately accepted the Journal position when it was offered, and wired his resignation to the Herald. He has not been north of the Mason and Dixon line since.

Two important events happened in the life of Oscar Cesare last month. The first was his jump from the New York Sun to the New York Evening Post when the former paper was purchased by Frank A. Munsey. The second was his marriage on July 15 to Miss Margaret Porter, daughter of the late Sidney Porter, known to the literary world as 0. Henry. The ceremony took place at the Church of the Transfiguration. The bride is a successful fiction writer, and was until recently the editor of Short Stories. She is now contemplating a series of articles on the life of her father. Mr. Cesare was born in Sweden, and did his earlier newspaper work as dramatic artist of the Chicago Tribune.

Incidentally, “One Hundred Cartoons by Cesare” is announced for early publication by Small, Maynard and Co., of Boston.

The happy couple


Reub. Goldberg, the New York Evening Mail’s “comicker,” and the originator of the “Foolish Questions” series, has at last asked a foolish question himself. It was favorably answered, according to report, by Miss Irma Seeman, with the result that Cupid has rung the bell again .


Nate Collier has left the Chicago Journal .


E. A. Bushnell has received an invitation from the minister of foreign affairs of France to contribute to an official sketch book of the best anti-German cartoons the original of his cartoon on the “Lusitania” disaster, entitled “Making War Frightful.” This drawing, which was reproduced last year in Cartoons Magazine, credited to the Cincinnati Times-Star, shows Death with huge, overshadowing wings, grasping the ill-fated steamship in his bony hands. The French book will include cartoons by the master satirists of all neutral countries.

The wedding of Mrs. Irene Louise Lauder-Milch, daughter of Mrs. Mary Evans, of New York, to Sidney Greene, cartoonist of the New York Evening Telegram, took place early in July at the Church of the Transfiguration. A breakfast and reception followed at the Claridge Hotel. The bride is the widow of Mr. William Lauder-Milch of Pennsylvania.

Friends of “Mutt and Jeff,” who missed those little fellows for a short time recently from the back pages of their favorite newspapers, found the explanation in the motor accident to their originator, Bud Fisher. Mr. Fisher was rather seriously injured when his automobile which he was driving along the Glenn Falls road near Saratoga, skidded and turned completely over. Mr. Fisher suffered a fractured rib, and with his companion, who was also injured, was taken to a hospital by a passing motorist. The artist and his friend were on their way from New York to a summer resort in the Adirondacks.

Robert Minor, cartoonist of the New York Call, has been on the Mexican border making sketches of the militiamen who have been called out to defend Uncle Sam against the Greasers. This is his second war assignment, and though he has no use for war as an institution, he cannot resist it. He recently returned from the battle fronts of Europe, where he was sent to “rip the buttons and gold lace” from Mars.

“I was much amused in El Paso,” he says, “by hearing some very well-meaning and well-informed men burst out with hatred toward the Mexicans, whom they believe to be the sole cause of the friction. They do not realize that some of these very Mexicans are their best friends, while some of the Americans they are lauding are a great part of the contributing cause of the trouble. They do not seem to know that it is oil and copper and all the natural resources of Mexico that form the underlying reasons of it all.”

After visiting in Juarez, “the place where they throw the dead and wounded soldiers,” he says he sensed a feeling of horror and revulsion, and left as soon as possible. Similar sights, he declares, hastened his return from Europe.

 Although Clare Briggs lived during his boyhood days in Lincoln, Nebraska, and Dixon, Illinois, the boys that he portrays seem to be universal. Thus, one admirer writes: “You must have lived in Oregon,” and another, “You must have lived in Tennessee.” Briggs is convinced that boys are much the same the world over.

When the battleships carrying their citizen sailors put out to sea from New York recently, one of them carried Herb Roth of the World. Herb decided to be patriotic and give his vacation to his country, incidentally enjoying a cruise. In taking examinations he stated that he had had “small boat” experience, which seemed to satisfy the naval examiners. If they had questioned him further Herb would have had to admit that his small boat experience, to be painfully exact, was limited to an open canoe. Following the cruise, which lasts a month, Herb will make a three weeks’ visit to his home in San Francisco.


John T. McCutcheon of the Chicago Tribune heads a list of 150 applicants for instruction in aviation and enlistment in the First Squadron U. S. Central Aviation Reserve. He also subscribed $100 toward the $20,000 fund required to equip the squadron and the school of instruction.


“Why is it,” asks a gentleman from Topeka, “that cartoonist Hammond of the Wichita Eagle, persists in representing Wichita as a man with whiskers?” A more careful cartoonist, he adds, would take cognizance of the fact that the Wichita winds preclude whiskers.


Cliff Berryman, inventor of the Teddy Bear, and cartoonist of the Washington Star, claims that his father should share in his fame as a likeness getter. The elder Berryman was a crossroads merchant, and spent his spare time caricaturing his customers on wrapping paper. He encouraged his son to study cartooning. Cliff has been on the Washington newspapers for twenty years now, and knows personally more celebrities than any other cartoonist in the country.


Charles Graham Baker, formerly cartoonist of the New York Times, was married recently to Miss Beryl Hilburn.

 Some take their golf seriously, others frivolously, while some don’t care for the game at all. It makes no difference, however, whether you are a scoffer, a duffer, or a golfer, Briggs’ new book of golf cartoons is dedicated to you, and you will like it, in whatever class you are. It is described by the publisher, P. F. Volland & Co., as “the book of a thousand chuckles,” but one might go a bit farther and say a thousand and one chuckles.

The cartoons have appeared from time to time in the columns of the New York Tribune. Tinted, and in book form, they make a collection rich in humor and human interest. Briggs knows his golfers, and portrays them with all their faults and virtues.

In his dedication to “the scoffers, the duffers, and the golfers,” he says: “It is to these three classes that I am indebted for the material contained in this book. Of these three classes I might say the greatest is the duffer. He is the salt and substance of the golf course. He is the source of more cartoons than any other class. He is funny. He makes my business good. He is the inspiration. I was once a scoffer myself and I believe I understand the emotions and feelings of him. Now I am with the great and unsilent majority, the duffer, where I expect to remain for some time to come. Some day I hope to be a golfer, but that is not important. I prefer the association of duffers. I prefer the thoughts of a duffer, because I believe in my cartoons of him I can reach the majority who make up the golf world. I do not have to exaggerate, I do not have to imagine. One need only to observe and draw the real happenings, repeat the actual sayings, and depict true expressions. Hence the golf cartoon.”


Russell Henderson, cartoonist of the American Issue, the prohibition organ, has been spending his vacation at Gordonville, Va., where he owns a farm so large that he has to ride across it on horseback.

What the Cartoonists are Doing, August 1916 (Vol.10 No.2)

[Cartoons Magazine, debuting in 1912, was a monthly magazine devoted primarily to reprinting editorial cartoons from U.S. and foreign newspapers. Articles about cartooning and cartoonists often supplemented the discussion of current events.

In November 1913 the magazine began to offer a monthly round-up of news about cartoonists and cartooning, eventually titled “What The Cartoonist Are Doing.” There are lots of interesting historical nuggets in these sections, and this Stripper’s Guide feature will reprint one issue’s worth each week.]

While on tour with the Friars, Reub Goldberg was interviewed for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. The creator of “I’m the Guy,” and “Father Was Right,” after drawing a picture for the newspaper, was asked to define the difference between the humor of American and European publications.

“ There isn’t any,” he replied.

“All really successful cartoonists,” he continued, “work on the same foundation. All take the manners and foibles of their countrymen, exaggerate them, show the grotesque and ridiculous in them, induce their readers to laugh at their own shortcomings. In other words, the successful cartoonist of every nation ‘kids’ his public about himself.

“To illustrate: The funniest figure in French comics today is the French soldier. The cartoonist makes his baggy trousers baggier than ever and his lop-sided cap more lop-sided than ever. The things are absurd enough as they are and the cartoonist merely reveals the absurdity by emphasis.

“It’s the same way over here and everywhere else. The cartoonist makes people laugh at their own follies and if he can do so without leaving a sting he is successful.”

Cartoon drawing, as Goldberg explained it, is a very serious, thoughtful business. The picture must be grounded upon human nature. It must tell a story. It must have a little sugar-coated philosophy under the surface. Most of all, it must have a “punch,” something that will stick in the reader’s memory after the laugh has died away. Before he begins to draw, Goldberg says, he constructs a scenario, builds the stage and creates parts and actors. There must be nothing haphazard about it. This is why very few of the suggestions that burden a successful cartoonist’s mail have any value.

Illustrative of what he meant, he cited one of his own cartoons which had won great popularity. The picture began with a boy working in the can-opener department of a hardware store. He determined to know more about can-openers than anybody else in the world and accomplished his desire. He became the can-opener magnate of the country. Bank directorates were offered him, colleges he had founded gave him degrees, he was lauded until he even forgot what a can-opener looked like, and then, when he died, the best thing anybody could think to say of him was that he had been an amazingly good can-opener man.

“It has a joke and a laugh and a bit of slang that the newsboy can get,” the cartoonist commented, “but I think that also below the surface it has considerable philosophy for the man who wants to dig it out.”

from the Waterloo Courier
Every cartoonist of course has a different idea of the president, and caricatures him in a manner to bring out what he conceives to be his strong points or his foibles, depending upon the policy of the paper which prints the cartoon. Thus Darling of the Des Moines Register depicts a squabby, undersized Wilson with a long drawn out, bespectacled and pedagogical face, and an ill-shapen frock coat floating in the breeze.

On the other hand, John T. McCutcheon of the Chicago Tribune idealizes the president. In the early days of the administration when the Tribune was more friendly toward Mr. Wilson than it is at present, McCutcheon conceived this stately and dignified figure of the president, showing strength of purpose, depth of thought and breadth of vision in every line of his face, in fact every inch a president. Now since the opinion of the Tribune of Mr. Wilson has undergone considerable change, it is to the credit of this noted cartoonist that he has retained the same representation of the president to criticize him that he used before to praise. There is the same stateliness and dignity about the portrait, but the desired effect is secured by deft work on the presidential countenance. The old show of strength is not so much in evidence. There is instead the look of sad perplexity and deep disgust with life. The president is represented not in vindictive wrath over the indignities on the border but he is stirred sufficiently to ask Carranza’s permission to punish the perpetrators. The effect is all the greater in that the figure of the president is dignified. It stamps McCutcheon as a master cartoonist .

William C . Morris, who three years ago was doing cartoons for the Spokane Review, is rapidly making a name for himself in New York. His work in Harper’s Weekly was attracting national attention at the time that historic magazine was approaching its finish. Since the demise of Harper’s Mr. Morris has been publishing his cartoons in Puck and The Independent . Some of his full-page designs, satires on national and international events, show striking originality and boldness of conception .

The proprietors of the Ohio State Journal are congratulating themselves on the work done by Harry Westerman at the Chicago and St. Louis conventions. Mr. Westerman’s portraits of the republican and democratic leaders were finely executed in the artist’s happiest style, and there was no cartoonist at either convention that turned in nearly the amount of sketches as the gentleman from Columbus. Much of his work was done in crayon, and in addition to the portraits Mr. Westerman furnished a number of “lightning” cartoons, each hitting off some timely phase of the situation.

Lieutenant Phil Rader, a former San Francisco cartoonist, but now a member of the Royal Flying Corps, stationed in England, has been teaching young Englishmen aeronautics. One of his recent pupils was Vernon Castle, the dancer, who, according to Rader, “is shaping up very well as a service pilot.”

Speaking of his experiences, Lieutenant Rader writes: “I am doing a good deal of flying, although rainy weather has hampered us a good deal. Had a rather exciting experience when I got lost in a blinding snowstorm and had to make a forced landing on the side of a hill in the dark. Didn’t ‘bust’ anything, however.”


J . H . Richmond, formerly a cartoonist on the Des Moines News, was found dead in his home in Cedar Rapids on May 10.


Those who have enjoyed Helena Smith Dayton’s “caracatypes” in Cartoons Magazine will have an opportunity this month of seeing them go through their paces on the screen. How anyone can animate a clay figure is beyond most of us, but seeing that we ourselves are only animated clay, doubtless Mrs. Dayton finds it easy. The little figures are said to be very lifelike and funnier than Charlie Chaplin . One of the lady figures even goes so far as to chew gum.


Jay N. Darling, cartoonist of the Des Moines Register and Leader, was selected as commander in chief of the preparedness parade held in that city on June 3. His first official act was to bar all “pussy footers.”

Zim’s “Homespun Phoolosophy,” which has been appearing regularly in Cartoons Magazine, has been published by the author in book form. The volume is entitled “A Jug Full of Wisdom,” but much of it, according to Zim, is not wisdom by a jugful. It contains about sixty pages of “phoolosophy,” with a few odd sketches and homespun observations thrown in for good measure. The genial sage of Horseheads has thousands of admirers, not only in Chemung County, N. Y., but in Elmira, and other large cities, and this by-product of one of America’ s most famous car toonists will be welcome everywhere.

Jean Knott, author of the “Penny Ante” cartoon series, was sued for a divorce by Mrs. Elizabeth E. Knott a few hours after Knott had severed his connection with the St. Louis Post-Dispatch and departed for New York to fill a $12,500 a year contract with the Hearst Newspaper Syndicate.

Knott’s “artistic temperament” is mentioned in the divorce petition.

There is one child, a daughter, five years old. Her custody is sought by Mrs. Knott, who also wants alimony proportionate to Knott’ s new salary.

Mrs. Knott charges that her husband is possessed of a violent temper, frequently quarreled with her over unimportant matters, and when she tried to calm him he told her to “shut up.” She asserts that he often refused to speak to her for weeks at a time.

Since January 5 last, Mrs. Knott says, she and her husband have been living apart in their apartment. When he came home she said he would eat at the same table with her but refused to talk to her.

The defendant is a member of the Sunset Inn, Country and Oasis clubs and the Missouri Athletic Association.


Fred Myers of the National Feature Syndicate of Indianapolis is receiving congratulations on the arrival at his home of a seven-and-a-half pound baby girl .

Sidney Smith of the Chicago Tribune’s staff of “comickers” certainly started something when he inaugurated his “Light Occupations” series. As a result he doesn’t have to work any more, except to draw an occasional “Doc Yak.” The first two or three of the “Light Occupations” pictures he thought up himself. Then the voluntary humorists began helping him out. Each mail brought hundreds of suggestions, which is even more than B. L. T. gets for his column. Sid didn’t know there were so many ideas in the world, and to show that they are not easy to think of, here are some of them:

“Sawing Off the Corners of a Square Meal,” “Looking for the Engine on the Train of a Woman’s Dress,” “Drilling Ink Wells,” “Making a Chain Out of Golf Links,” “Fishing with a Hook Worm,” “Keeping the Chili Sauce Warm,” “Cutting the Bangs Off Firecrackers,” “Blushing at the Legs of a Table,” “Watering a Sawhorse,” “Shaving the Neck of a Bottle,” “Beating Eggs with a Horsewhip.”

By giving the local humorists full play, Sid manages to get in several hours of golf a day, or to run up to Lake Geneva occasionally in his motor.

“The Good Fairy”, 1916


He is known to the public only as the “Good Fairy,” the little plaster sprite who holds out his arms to you as entreatingly as did Peter Pan. But to the inner circle he is John T. McCutcheon Raleigh, the little nephew of John T. McCutcheon of the Chicago Tribune, the namesake of the cartoonist, and the inspiration of the statue. It was his fairylike body and impish spirit that suggested the figure to his mother, Mrs. Jesse McCutcheon Raleigh, who has given to the world this little emblem of good cheer.

Ralph C. Faulkner, who does a cartoon act in vaudeville, appeared before an audience in San Antonio, Texas, recently, and was received with open arms. Faulkner was born in San Antonio, and used to play football on the local high school team. Since leaving his native town he has had an adventurous career in Mexico and South America. He was shipped out of Mexico City as an express package after having drawn a cartoon of Diaz for El Diario. Bearing a striking resemblance to President Wilson, Faulkner makes up as the chief executive for his stage performances, and uses cartoons to illustrate his monologue.

When Bud Fisher, of Mutt and Jeff fame, was out frolicing with the Friars he associated with a fellow actor who had only recently become a proud father. They were in Atlantic City and stopped at a lunch counter along the Boardwalk after the performance.

The actor took out his watch and looked longingly at a photograph pasted inside. He was away from home and lonely for the kiddie. Finally he put his watch away and looked into space. A waiter approached. “Do you wish anything else?” he asked.

It did not jar the actor out of his dream for he looked up with a simpering smile and prattled: “Dimme ittle jink of wa-wa.” Then he rushed out in search of an ocean breeze to fan his flushed brow.


After a delay caused by litigation, a bequest made by an unknown admirer of E. A. Bushnell has found its way into the pockets of the artist. Mr. Bushnell received the news about a year ago that a wealthy old lady in the Middle West had died and remembered him handsomely in her will. She had been prompted to do this merely because she liked Mr. Bushnell’s cartoons. The artist, who is now in Brooklyn, N. Y., was forced to discontinue his cartoon service owing to illness, but is now planning to resume his work.

Gustav Kahn, in Le Mercure de France
His art is graphic; he writes rather than depicts; his prime object is to argue; his productions are not violent, they are just. A German would regard his treatment as paroxysmal; the French do not. If one cannot look with serenity upon the tragic pages to which Raemaekers owes his renown, one may reflect calmly on his methods. Attention is given, perhaps, to the setting, but the stress is laid upon the total effect. Caricature, as it was conceived by the greatest polemics of the pencil, a Daumier, for example, exerts no influence on this art. It is not caricature, for there is no violent facial deformation, mirthful or depreciatory. What is presented is the acute stage of a situation.

Is Ramaekers’ art entirely individual? No, we find the same aim, the same bent in Hermann-Paul’ s drawings of the war. Must we admit that the very tragedy of the subject, in its manifold aspects, deprives the critic, and the artist, of any desire of artistic exaggeration? One does not caricature such situations, indulge in irony upon the perpetrators of such actions, the per sonages of such dramas. Caricature has abdicated before a direct attack of the subject; the artist’s reflections are sad, bitter; buffoonery of any sort finds no place here.

Simple, strong phrases are needed to interpret the great drama; the draftsman seeks to reproduce the most statuesque, the most salient, suggestive, of those phrases; to mark clearly the chief point of the drama is his first, his abiding care.


A writer in the New York Evening Post complains about the representation of Uncle Sam in newspaper cartoons, and deplores the effect they must have on the people.

“It is wrong,” he says,” to believe that the American public is unable to appreciate artistic things. To keep before its eyes these odious, badly drawn images of an old crank dressed like a clown, the invention of some English cartoonist, who was anything but sympathetic toward Americans, is an insult to its taste, and must have a bad effect on the attitude of many toward the country.

“’Marianne,’ ‘Michel,’ and ‘John Bull’ are not served up every day in almost every daily paper; they remain the property of the comic weekly publications, and appear in such clever execution that they do not offend. It is hard for me to believe that an artist, or rather illustrator, with any patriotic ideals, could lend himself to such work as we see here.”

In 1904 the cartoon entitled “He’s Good Enough for Me,” drawn by the late Homer Davenport, and showing Uncle Sam endorsing Roosevelt, was published in the New York Evening Mail. It attracted wide attention at the time. A few weeks ago Robert Carter in the New York Evening Sun adapted the cartoon to the political situation as it existed, or seemed to exist, on the eve of the Chicago convention.

What The Cartoonists Are Doing, July 1916 (Vol.10 No.1)

[Cartoons Magazine, debuting in 1912, was a monthly magazine devoted primarily to reprinting editorial cartoons from U.S. and foreign newspapers. Articles about cartooning and cartoonists often supplemented the discussion of current events.

In November 1913 the magazine began to offer a monthly round-up of news about cartoonists and cartooning, eventually titled “What The Cartoonist Are Doing.” There are lots of interesting historical nuggets in these sections, and this Stripper’s Guide feature will reprint one issue’s worth each week.]

“Caricature and moral criticism” was the subject of a lecture delivered recently in Philadelphia by Prof. Louis W. Flaccus of the University of Pennsylvania.

After praising cartoonists for their display of moral strength on occasions, and condemning them for their display of shiftiness at times, Dr . Flaccus spoke of the characteristics of cartoonists in different countries.

“Why is it,” he asked, “that French caricaturists make marriage a thing of ridicule, American caricaturists do their best to discredit the presidency, and papers of the type of Simplicissimus and the Pasquino carry irreverence to great lengths? Moral radicalism will always have a place in caricature, and there is a moral individualism which would rather praise the devil in secret than God en masse. But the general drift of caricature is socially protective in spirit. The license is that of the artist, not the moralist. What seems a foul, satiric underthrust at morality or religion is often merely a bold imaginative stroke aimed at strong artistic contrasts.”

Mr. Flaccus mentioned feminism and war as favorites with the cartoonists. “One might imagine in regard to feminism, where the issues are so grave, that caricature would become earnest and significant,” he said. “But the great bulk of such caricature plays with the idea, leaving moral matters untouched. The tide of this fun runs against feminism, because the world of caricature is a man’s world. War is a favorite, for the caricaturist likes sharp contrasts, and as a moralist he thinks in black and white.

“Which way does caricature, morally speaking, lean? I find in it much defensive criticism, much that is strong, and little that is subtle. It chastises simple vices, as drunkenness, and presents simple standardized ideals such as honesty. It strikes hard at the moral laggard; it sees to it that there is no wide breach between average conduct and average ideals.

“Yet caricature often attacks, without judgment, what rises above as well as what falls below the common social level. It shows little insight into, and less sympathy with, reform movements. As a matter of history, caricature rarely has seized the real meaning of a new movement. Abolition, prohibition, the peace movement, socialism, feminism, have received from it unintelligent abuse. Do the Civil War cartoons express at all the seriousness of the issue or the greatness of Lincoln? What, one might ask Tenniel, had the man’s lankiness to do with the measure of his greatness? And there is not much to choose between a cartoon which sets a cultured woman over against a lot of drunkards and asks: ‘If these vote, why not we?’ and a cartoon that draws a woman voting, her children hungry, and household ruined. Both are unjust distortions, melodrama, and alike intolerant.”

In conclusion he mentioned the strong appeal of the cartoon to the man in the street and to the newspaper reader. “Let us be cautious, however,” he warned, “against accepting without very close inspection the caricaturist as a reliable moral guide. In 1884, Gillam attacked Blaine in caricature in one humorous paper and attacked Cleveland equally unjustly in another. But often the caricaturist has shown courage and great moral strength.”

In connection with the recent capture of Sir Roger Casement, W. A. Rogers, cartoonist of the New York Herald, recalls the fact that in 1887 he drew a cartoon for Life in which he depicted the first Irish parliament under home rule. In the cartoon Mr. Rogers had Prince Bismarck in charge of the department of foreign affairs for Ireland, while the head of Michael Davitt was displayed on a pike inside the house of parliament. About ten years later Davitt actually was stoned by an Irish mob.

Mr. Rogers was asked if the cartoon made any prediction as to the end of the present war, but his answer was :

“A prophet must not be overworked.”


James Henderson, of Charlotte, N. C., a brother of Russell Henderson, designed a souvenir postcard recently commemorating President Wilson’s visit to his city. Mr. Henderson added a verse which read:

Me and Woody is on our way,
To Charlotte for the twentieth of May;
 Come and join us if you can;
 We’ll have a big time hand in hand.

Thousands of the cards were printed and distributed throughout the Carolinas.

from Paterson (N. J.) Call
Future historians are going to use the cartoons as found recorded in the daily newspapers more than they have ever been used in the writing of history. And it is well that they should do so.

The newspapers of this country have never had working for them such able cartoonists as are now devoting their talent to the making of pictures. There have been a few great cartoonists in the past — some as good, perhaps, as any who are making cartoons at this time. But never have there been so many good ones as are with us at this time. And certainly they have never so completely sensed the meaning of the events of the war.

One does not have to read the words of the correspondents nor of the diplomats to understand the spirit of the struggle, its portents and its intents. All he needs to do is to study the cartoons. They are clean and wholesome. They are refined – and full of meaning. They show that the cartoonist possesses something else than the ability to make pictures. For within the most of them there is that which shows that the cartoonist is a man of deep reasoning and of splendid mental equipment, as well as being endowed with the genius of art.


“Some ‘Frightful’ War Pictures” is the title of a new cartoon book by W. Heath Robinson, the London artist. The pictures are not really so frightful as the name suggests, as Mr. Robinson is one of the best-known British humorists. The book is published by E. P. Dutton and Co., New York.

from Western Christian Advocate
Our eye has fallen upon a suggestive cartoon in one of the humorous satirical papers, namely, Judge . It is a picture called “Dollars and Sense.” On the left hand there is shown a rather vacant-faced and dapper young dude who stands for dollars, and because he has the ducats, a half dozen eager and adoring young women are hanging over him with pleading gaze, trying to hypnotize him into some response to their sincere and inspired admiration for his greatness. We will not raise the question of the real image within their minds. On the right there is a picture of the young student who represents sense (cents), who is sitting all alone, looking studious, a book man, earnest, pondering over a volume in his hands; but there is not a single female in his vicinity.


Under the auspices of Mrs. P. N. Cook of the Salt Lake City Board of Health, the school children of that city submitted original cartoons recently in a contest designed to further the interests of “clean up week.” The first prize was won by Miss Maxime Maxom, a senior in the high school. The cartoons have been placed on exhibition.


 “Billy” Ireland, of the Columbus Dispatch, on arriving at Chicago for the republican convention, immediately sought out Clare Briggs, of the New York Tribune, and challenged him to a game of golf. “Cliff” Berryman, of the Washington Star, who had offered to serve as caddy for Ireland, excused himself.


A Chantey of the Kiel Canal

W. A. Rogers, cartoonist of the New York Herald, frequently adorns his work with verse. The following appeared over his signature shortly after the German government had denied torpedoing the “Sussex.”

She loomed up on our stabbud bow,
And she looked like a man o’ war,
Nor peaceful hornless mooley cow
Was liker to a savage boar.

And straightway, for a fighting ship,
Her decks with women folks were crowded:
Her bows were fitted for a ferry slip;
Her guns were carefully enshrouded.

With cunning truly diabolic
This fighting ship defied us;
For on her decks in romp and frolic
Even the babes seemed to deride us.

No wonder then we launched a huge torpedo
Her impudence to quell.
It struck — a glorious deed, O,
Listen now what next befell.

Out of the smoke that spread across the sea
A second ship from Davy Jones’s rose,
And like our damaged quarry, she
Had also lost her nose.

Then , then it was our brave commander
Bade us to fire no more;
“Another shot may raise about us
Warships by the score.”

Maybe, sir, we saw things double,
Seeing like a stereoscope;
Very likely that’s the trouble,
Peering through a periscope.

Jean Knott, comic artist of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, has been graduated into the big-league newspaper class through signing a contract with William Randolph Hearst to work for the Hearst newspaper syndicate.

His salary will be $12,000 a year, or considerably more than double his present salary. He began on the Post-Dispatch as a counter clerk at $10 a week. His work recently attracted the attention of Hearst, who signed him to a two-year contract.

Under the caption “Offensive Ignorance,” the Rochester Herald prints the following anent a recent McCutcheon cartoon:

“If the famous Chicago cartoonist is lacking in a sense of decency it is rather strange that his newspaper employer should encourage it, to say nothing of betraying his ignorance, by giving publicity to the McCutcheon cartoon the other day entitled ‘The Double Standard.’ In this Janus-like figure the president is represented as saying to the Americans in Mexico: ‘You are warned to leave Mexico at once.’ To the traveler boarding an outward-bound vessel he is made to say: ‘You will be protected.’ Further is the legend: “Where Americans are Warned to Abandon Their Rights , and ‘Where Americans are Told Their Rights must be Respected.’

“It is a striking illustration of the influence of vicious partisanship that we find in this cartoon. Its crass ignorance appears to have had no restraining influence on the editor who passed on it.”

Louis Raemaekers, the famous Dutch cartoonist, has drawn for the National Committee for Relief in Belgium one of the most remarkable and certainly the most heartrending of all the war posters.

The misery of the millions now in Belgium has inspired this notable artist to his finest effort. A Belgian woman, with a ragged red cloak over her shoulders, is holding tightly to her breast an infant in a shawl. Around the child is clasped the mother’s hand – a hand which spells starvation . In the woman’s face there is the infinite sorrow of motherhood, driven to despair by the inhumanity of it all, and the pitiful, helpless yearning to relieve the child’s suffering. Any reader of this magazine can secure a copy of the poster free by sending a postcard to the Secretary, National Committee for Relief in Belgium, Trafalgar Buildings, Trafalgar Square, London.

Word was received recently of the death at Los Angeles of Mrs. Clara Woolson Darling, mother of Jay N. Darling, cartoonist of The Des Moines Register. She is survived by one other son, Frank W. Darling of New York. She was the widow of the Rev. Dr. Marc W. Darling, who was one of the most widely known ministers in Iowa.


Reub Goldberg, the New York Evening Mail’s cartoonist, was one of the star attractions in the Friars’ Frolic on its recent tour.

Dudley Logan of Los Angeles is now drawing cartoons for The Western Comrade, a monthly labor publication.


Clare Briggs, of the New York Tribune, was the guest of Percy Cowen of New Bedford, Mass., recently. He was much interested in a visit to a whaler, and is still recovering from the effects of a clambake.


“Bill” Steinke, formerly cartoonist for the Scranton (Pa.) Republican, and who is now in vaudeville, was given something of a reception recently when he appeared in Allentown, where he has a multiude of friends. He was escorted into the city by the mayor and the board of aldermen, and was met at the station by the town band.


The Western Union Life Insurance Co., of Spokane, Wash., offers a prize of $1,000 for the best original trade-mark submitted before Oct. 15. Sketches may be submitted in pencil, crayon, oil, or water color.


The Rev. Bouck White, of the Church of Social Revolution, of New York, after a recent term on Blackwell’s Island, is again in trouble for desecrating the American flag. According to the charges against him, he was distributing a cartoon showing the figure of a monster labeled “Militarism” grasping a money bag, sprawled across the national emblem. Red blots labeled “War” also defaced the flag, while a bolt of lightning, marked “Internationalism” was pictured as striking the monster.


A Briggs cartoon in the famous “When a Feller Needs a Friend” series, and representing the small boy appealing to his father for a vote for mother, has been distributed by the thousands throughout the state of Iowa in the interests of the equal suffrage campaign.

“Cousin Jim, or The Mystery of the Stolen Fraternity Pin” is the title of a film comedy which John T. McCutcheon of the Chicago Tribune has written for the Casino Club of that city.


John L . De Mar , cartoonist of the Philadelphia Record, began life as a railroad brakeman .


On the occasion recently of John T. McCutcheon’s forty-sixth birthday, a writer in the Cedar Rapids Gazette paid the following tribute to the Chicago cartoonist:

“Of all the cartoonists who ply their gentle art on this side of the well known Atlantic ocean, perhaps the most widely and favorably known is John T. McCutcheon of the Chicago Tribune. Like so many other middle western geniuses, Mr. McCutcheon was born in Indiana. It was forty-six years ago today, May 6, 1870, that he started life in Tippecanoe county, spending his youth on a Hoosier farm. Agriculture did not appeal to him, however, and while still in short trousers he began studying art. He advanced so rapidly that at the age of nineteen he landed a job on the art staff of the Chicago Record. Later he went over to the Record-Herald and afterward to the Tribune. For nearly a score of years he has held a place among the foremost newspaper cartoonists of the world. Mr. McCutcheon is a chronic globe-trotter and has had many unusual and thrilling experiences. He was a member of the party of American war correspondents who invaded Belgium soon after the outbreak of hostilities, and, with Irvin S. Cobb and several others, served time in a German jail, but finally escaped to Holland. In 1898 Mr. McCutcheon made a tour around the world in the dispatch boat McCulloch, and he was an eye witness of the battle of Manila Bay. The Chicago cartoonist was in Africa during Col. Roosevelt’s hunting trip, and recorded his impressions of that distinguished nimrod in a volume, ‘ T. R. in Cartoons.’ He made a balloon ascension at Nairobi, and from a safe height gazed down upon the wild beasts of the jungle. Besides having a ringside seat at Dewey’s victory over the haughty Don, Mr. McCutcheon has had experience in warfare in the Philippines, the Transvaal, and, latterly in Europe. In many of his globe-trotting expeditions the cartoonist has traveled with that other celebrated Hoosier, George Ade, and as a result of his association has illustrated many of Mr. Ade’s books. As an artist McCutcheon has a style that is strictly his own. A McCutcheon cartoon may be recognized at a considerable distance, and may be approached with the certainty that it contains the ‘makings’ of a laugh.”

Rube Goldberg, sporting editor and cartoonist of the New York Evening Mail, drove his automobile on the wrong side of the roadway at Washington bridge the other afternoon, and as a consequence found himself before Magistrate Levy in the Morrisania court.

Goldberg told the magistrate that he was not familiar with the rules of the road in this case, and was not aware of the fact that he was violating any ordinance.

It is alleged that when he was asked by the magistrate why he did not study the traffic regulations, Goldberg replied with the sentence he has put into the mouths of the characters in so many of his cartoons, “I never thought of that.”

The magistrate found him guilty but suspended sentence.

What the Cartoonists are Doing, June 1916 (Vol.9 No.6)

[Cartoons Magazine, debuting in 1912, was a monthly magazine devoted primarily to reprinting editorial cartoons from U.S. and foreign newspapers. Articles about cartooning and cartoonists often supplemented the discussion of current events.

In November 1913 the magazine began to offer a monthly round-up of news about cartoonists and cartooning, eventually titled “What The Cartoonist Are Doing.” There are lots of interesting historical nuggets in these sections, and this Stripper’s Guide feature will reprint one issue’s worth each week.]

Under royal patronage in Montreal and under the distinguished patronage of His Honor the Lieutenant Governor and Madame Le Blanc, Sir Lomer and Lady Gouin, and His Worship the Mayor and Madame Lavigueur in Quebec, A. G. Racey, cartoonist of the Montreal Star, delivered his lecture entitled “The War in Cartoon.” The proceeds went to the Red Cross society. Both occasions served to bring out Canadian expressions of patriotism and loyalty. Mr. Racey had prepared the lecture at the request of several members of parliament. In the course of his remarks he stated that everything in Germany had been made subservient to militarism; that Prussia had prepared so well for war that she only awaited the chance to strike. He showed on the screen the signature of von Buelow to the now famous “scrap of paper,” guaranteeing Belgium’s neutrality.

The difficulties that confronted Great Britain in the earlier stages of the war were depicted. A series of cartoons reviewed Germany’s submarine warfare, the Balkan developments, the attitude of the United States, Germany’s dream of an Egyptian conquest, and other features. The cartoonist expects to realize more than $30,000 for the cause.


Chapin, of the St. Louis Republic, has drawn a cartoon which is being used by the St. Louis Provident Association in a campaign to raise $23,000 for its summer work. The drawing pictures the rise of a family from despair to hope, the steps to independence being respectively Relief, Encouragement, Help, Employment, and Opportunity.

Jack Flanagan, one of the youngest of the Australian cartoonists, who has achieved the distinction of full-page cartoons in the Sydney Bulletin, has reached the United States via Vancouver, and intends to locate in New York. His ambition is to illustrate an edition of the Odyssey. Mr. Flanagan will be followed shortly by Harry Julius, who illustrates the theatrical page of the Sydney Bulletin, and who has something new in the way of animated cartoons that he wishes to introduce in America.


Don Barclay, a comedian of the “Maid in America” company, and a former St. Louis cartoonist, claims to be the originator of the Charlie Chaplin walk. His specialty as a cartoonist was drawing funny feet, and from this he developed a vaudeville act, he says, that the famous film artist has imitated.

The Rev. Cauley H. Perrin, who is a cartoonist as well as a clergyman, has been giving a series of cartoon sermons, portraying the progress of the modern pilgrim through the various stages of life’s journey. Mr. Perrin is the pastor of the First Methodist Episcopal church of Watertown, N. Y.


John Campbell Cory, formerly cartoonist for the Chicago Journal, is now syndicating his work through the Publishers’ Feature Bureau of Chicago. He has a summer home at Wadsworth, Ill.


Commenting on the tendency of cartoonists to picture Britain as a bulldog, standing square to the world, and ready to grip with the grip that never lets go, a writer in Town and Country says: “Personally I think a bulldog rather unattractive and I think its reputation for courage and tenacity rather exaggerated.”

At the recent dinner given by the Evening Star Club at the Raleigh Hotel, Washington, each guest was presented with a copy of the “Morning Star,” a souvenir newspaper edited by the Evening Star staff, and illustrated with cartoons drawn for the occasion by Clifford K. Berryman. Mr. Berryman received as a special tribute during the evening a big Teddy bear, so lifelike that it might have stepped out from the corner of one of his daily cartoons. Mr. Berryman in his turn presented to Uncle Joe Cannon, one of the honor guests, a huge cigar. After having drawn more than sixty cartoons for the dinner souvenir, Mr. Berryman was ordered to draw one of himself, which is presented forthwith.

A recent cartoon drawn by Harry J. Westerman, of the Ohio State Journal, and depicting the contrast between the fate of the clown, “Slivers,” and Charlie Chaplin, the movie comedian, so appealed to Mr. Sam McCracken, the noted sportsman, that he purchased the original and had it framed for his office. “Slivers,” it will be remembered, committed suicide at about the time that Mr. Chaplin’s half-million-dollar contract was announced. Mr. McCracken was perhaps “Slivers” closest friend. It was he who staged the Willard-Moran fight in New York. “Slivers” was undoubtedly the world’s greatest clown. It was his privilege to make thousands of grown-ups and children laugh, but his later days were days of tragedy.


The New York Tribune Sunday magazine is running a series of four-column cartoons by Robert J. Wildhack, captioned “How to Make Money.” There isn’t any doubt that Bob Wildhack himself knows how to make money for he has just added the third car to his automobile stable.


H. T. Webster, of the New York Globe, has taken delivery of a new Marmon car. It is a bachelor’s runabout. Had Webbie been a marrying man he might have bought a Mormon car. Webbie was measured for the car and then the car was made to Webbie’s measure. Standing upon the equator Webster would be head and shoulders above the arctic circle, so no stock car would accomodate his reach. Pushing the motor forward 18 inches and moving the seat back so that it overhangs the rear axle gives Webbie ample leg room.

Of course the car suffers some in appearance. On the leading drives about New York, Webbie’s car has already been named “the Dachshund.” It is long like that. It has two steering wheels, one to operate the front pair of road wheels, and a second one for the rear wheels like an aerial-ladder fire truck. Managing two steering wheels would ordinarily be a busy job, but for a cartoonist who draws with one hand while he lights a load of soft-coal tobacco in a base burner pipe with the other, it is a cinch.

The report that Herb Roth was going to Spain for a couple of years has been officially denied. Instead Herb has signed another two-year contract with the New York World. The night shift of New York’s gaiety workers is relieved by this announcement. Now they know the worst. Herb Roth is a truthful cartoonist. With the mathematical certainty of the magnetic compass which always points north, Herb plants a laugh even if he does not adorn a face. His recent picture of the Fakirs’ Ball at the Hotel Vanderbilt showed 50 persons and every one was a speaking likeness. The “Met section” would be something else if Herb should go to Spain.

Charles Richardson, a Washington, D.C., shopkeeper, was summoned to court recently to account for a cartoon in his store window depicting President Wilson as a gladiator standing over his victims with a sword dripping with blood. Action was brought by the police under the statute which forbids the display of pictures dealing with crime, or intent to commit a crime.


Readers of the old school who remember “Rudder Grange” still dream, perhaps, of living in a house made out of an old boat. Clare Briggs, the author of “Skinnay” and “When a Feller Needs a Friend,” has built such a dream house at New Rochelle, N. J. It is such a house as Frank R. Stockton or Robert Louis Stevenson would have delighted in, and the name of the house is “The Blue Anchor.”

A writer in the Utica Observer, describing a visit to the home of the “Mark Twain of cartoonists,” says:

“A striking feature of this house is a framework of ship timbers, taken from a water-logged schooner, wrecked on a bar undoubtedly, and procured from a salvage firm in Perth Amboy, New Jersey. Some of the lumber used in the construction work is only 250 or 300 years old; and one does not have to look hard or long to see timbers 14 by 12 inches in size by 35 feet in length, which, in course of time, will be hand-carved.

“The supposedly front elevation is the rear of the house, the latter being half surrounded by a stone wall, embedded in which are parts of the hull of the same old schooner.

“The dining room is large and comfortable, surrounded entirely with quartered white oak panels, six feet in height, stained most beautifully by Father Time himself. The ceiling is beamed with those old water-logged timbers. The window frames are made from the old planking, which more than a dozen hardwood turners refused to touch with their tools.

“To the modern builder every stick of timber in ‘Blue Anchor’ is subject to condemnation. Holes, dowels and splints are everywhere, and cracks half an inch wide are the rule, and why not in a house 300, or shall we say 400 years old?

“Remember we are in the dining room, and its windows are of leaded glass, as are all the windows throughout the house. In each window there may still be three or even 10 pieces of the old glass, opaque but not transparent, which was the best that glaziers could produce when ‘Blue Anchor’ was built 400, or shall we say 500 years ago? And then there is sure to be found in every window one or more descriptive pictures, for once “Blue Anchor’ must have belonged to an artistic individual who was most lavish in his expenditures, for he replaced the old glass with the most unobtrusively blending pictures one can imagine.

“From the dining room one passes through a spacious hall, into the living room, two steps below. The room occupies half the house, and is finished—Well:

“Its floor: Planking four inches thick, sixteen or eighteen inches wide, 30 feet long; the seams are calked with oakum and tar, for those planks have lived many a year on that diet. Scars and marks on the floor show where stays were fastened in them aboard ship.

“At the far end is a stone fireplace. At its left a secret panel gives entrance to a winding stairway in the chimney, and either to Mr Briggs’ grill room below or to Madame’s boudoir above, past the minstrels’ balcony, one within the holy of holies of this family can go.

“The huge rudder of the schooner 15 feet long and with its massive iron pivot and chains weighing nearly 1,400 pounds was not thrown onto the junk heap, but has been given the most conspicuous place in the grill room. It serves as chimney breast, over a glorious fireplace. At the other end of the grill, directly opposite the fireplace, is a huge anchor, a gift of a friend, J. K. Stewart. This cute toy weighs a ton and a quarter.”

R. M. Brinkerhoff, of the New York Evening Mail, has bought himself a studio and living apartment in the big structure which Penrhyn Stanlaws is building on 67th Street and Central Park, West. Each tenant owns, in fee simple,—whatever that is— the right and title to his own apartment with trespass rights in the public halls, elevators, and the sidewalk fronting.

Brink is now shoppng to furnish his new home. He is to have Chinese rugs, Turkish corners, French pastry, German fried, Swedish massage, and Bull Durham, while the decoration will be largely Hungarian goulash and all very Chile con carne.


Clifton Meek, formerly cartoonist with the New York Evening Journal, is now in business for himself, and is connected with “The Silent Partner,” a “magazine of inspiration” published in New York.

An exhibition of original cartoons by Clifford K. Berryman, of the Washington Star, has been attracting many visitors to the Corcoran galleries of the capitol city. It was the first time the gallery had ever placed on view a collection of drawings in black and white.

Among the best known of the pictures to be shown is the “Why Didn’t I Think of That?” cartoon of Roosevelt, which shows him reading reports of President Wilson’s first personal address to congress. This cartoon was reproduced all over the country, subsequent to its publication in The Star. Another famous cartoon in the collection is the “To Go or Not to Go” commemoration of Roosevelt’s retirement from the White House on March 4, 1909. The picture shows the famous Berryman Teddy bear on the steps of the executive mansion, regarding with pensive gaze a large moving Van.

The Baltimore convention of the democratic party in 1912, the German submarine controversy, Roosevelt’s trip abroad and in Africa, the Mexican controversy, “Uncle Joe” Cannon and Speaker Clark, all come in for their share of the friendly satire of Mr. Berryman’s pen.


A fine point in newspaper law has developed in connection with the alleged misuse by Dr. John R. Davis, of Mena, Ark., of an “Everett True” cartoon by Condo, of the Newspaper Enterprise Association. The cartoon, as originally drawn, showed the redoubtable Everett belaboring with his umbrella the head of a congressman who, instead of attending to business, spent most of his time at pink teas.

Dr. Davis, who was a congressional candidate in a hot primary fight in his district, altered the cartoon by lettering in the name of his opponent and distributed it in circular form, the attorneys for the syndicate claim. The N. E. A., therefore, has brought action against him for the misuse of a copy righted cartoon.

Mutt and Jeff, in the opinion of the Russian embassy at Washington, are not fit companions for the czar of Russia. Followers of Bud Fisher’s cartoons will remember that the czar was commandeered by Mutt and Jeff and introduced into the mysteries of draw poker. The Russian embassy, however, didn’t like the idea, and made a protest. As a result the fact was disclosed that it really wasn’t the czar, after all, who accompanied the comic-strip celebrities to America, but the czar’s valet in disguise.


Mrs. John Barr McCutcheon, the mother of John T. McCutcheon, the Chicago Tribune cartoonist, George Barr McCutcheon, the novelist, and Benjamin F. McCutcheon, died recently at her home in Chicago.


The first gun in what is to be a nationwide fight against moving-picture censorship has been fired by Charles R. Macauley, formerly cartoonist of the New York World. Mr. Macauley’s shot is in the nature of the cartoon presented herewith, and showing a “holier-than-thou” individual veiling a screen with a banner which bears the legend “Pre-publication Censorship.” This, with others, will be shown in the cinema theaters throughout the country as part of an organized crusade.


H. T. Webster, of the New York Globe, and R. M. Brinkerhoff, of the New York Evening Mail, have been spending a week in Washington, D. C., getting acquainted with the celebrities in order that their cartoons hereafter will bear a semblance to the truth. They have been studying President Wilson, Secretary Baker, and others at first hand. The trip was made in Web’s new touring car.

3 comments on “What the Cartoonists are Doing, June 1916 (Vol.9 No.6)

  1. "
    Jack Flanagan from Australia was John R. Flanagan, who soon became one of the great pen-and-ink illustrators of the 1920s. He drew many illustrations for Collier's, including the popular Fu Manchu series following J. C. Coll. Flanagan was just 21 when he came to New York, having already established himself as a newspaper cartoonist back in Australia. Fun to see him right at the start of his career.

  2. I found the Slivers/Chaplin bit riveting, and went and looked up the backstory on it. Fascinating. That bit alone was worth the price of admission, today, and I greatly enjoy these "What the Cartoonists Are Doing" bits.

  3. It is rare and amazing to see Chaplin commented upon so near to the beginning of his rise to immortality. Here he is still a mere mortal, and a target for carping comments. On the other hand, I have never heard of poor old Slivers. Lost in the obscurity of the past, after a tragic end. I have contemplated suicide many times — who hasn't? — but one thing that has always stopped me is the thought that I might regret it later. Who knows what successes may have awaited Slivers if he had stuck around?
    I, too, really enjoy these slice of life glimpses of the cartooning world, so long ago. I have always loved the "really old" strips, so it is an added enjoyment to read about the cartoonists too. Thank you, Allan!

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Posted in What The Cartoonists Are Doing3 Comments on What the Cartoonists are Doing, June 1916 (Vol.9 No.6)

What The Cartoonists Are Doing, May 1916 (Vol.9 No.5)

[Cartoons Magazine, debuting in 1912, was a monthly magazine devoted primarily to reprinting editorial cartoons from U.S. and foreign newspapers. Articles about cartooning and cartoonists often supplemented the discussion of current events.

In November 1913 the magazine began to offer a monthly round-up of news about cartoonists and cartooning, eventually titled “What The Cartoonist Are Doing.” There are lots of interesting historical nuggets in these sections, and this Stripper’s Guide feature will reprint one issue’s worth each week.]

The publication in Punch, and other British journals, of cartoons deliberately unfriendly to America has aroused quite a storm of protest. Sir Edward Grey, British secretary for foreign affairs, speaking in the House of Commons, expressed the opinion recently that the friendly relations between the United States and England had been jeopardized to some extent by such cartoons, which, however, could not be suppressed unless they transcended the law.

Discussing the Punch cartoon comparing President Wilson to the prophet Job (reproduced in the April Cartoons Magazine), the Syracuse Post-Standard says that the drawing is but a mild rebuke when one considers certain British cartoons on the subject of Secretary Lansing’s “Ancona” note. The German cartoons picturing Uncle Sam stuffing his pockets with gains from munition selling at the expense of the Teuton cause, this newspaper points out, are even more vitriolic.

“One wonders,” it adds, “what would have happened to Punch if that estimable journal had printed the cartoons of Carter, Starrett, Cesare, or Kirby.”

 Says the Buffalo Enquirer:

“Cartoonists have little sense of responsibility and rarely withhold a shaft for the harm it may do. The cartoonists should give serious attention to Sir Edward Grey’s reply to the question whether friendly relations between the United States and Great Britain had been injured by the English cartoons reflecting on American diplomacy. Every American who has felt his wrath rise when looking at British cartoons will confirm the secretary for foreign affairs. Still better proof is the fact that foes of the British circulate British cartoons in the United States for the purpose of arousing American ire. It is equally true, of course, that American cartoons madden the British and Germans just as British and German cartoons anger us.”


Boardman Robinson, the former New York Tribune cartoonist, since his return from the war zone, has been delivering a lecture called “From Saloniki to Petrograd.” It deals with the artist’s experiences in the typhus hospitals of Serbia, on the battlefields of the east front, and in the Russian jails.

When Fourteenth Street, New York, was the real Rialto and hang-out for actors, both good and bad, says “Zim,” Grant E. Hamilton and I used to take our noonday bite at the famous Lüchow restaurant opposite Tammany Hall, and I know by the way those Shakespeareans and comedians sized us up we were mistaken for a fat song-and-dance team. It was our before-dinner delight to assume every aspect of the exalted race that was basking in the meridian sun during its off-duty hour, and often we’d catch wireless remarks as to our bookings. Once during my absence, “Ham,” as I called him, ran the gauntlet of inquisitive eyes alone. On this trip he recorded many remarks about the other fat one. “He’s alone today—wonder where his partner is.” This was our opportunity to study stage characters in real life. Every man to the lowest and basest comedian felt himself an important cog in the theatrical machinery. Each was attired in his best raiment, some having their entire estate upon their backs, surmounted by fur collars overhung with curly locks of varied hues. I once spoke the name “Ham” rather loudly in addressing my partner Hamilton, and as “Ham” is a show term for Shakespearean actor, many eyes were riveted my way, causing me, of course, to draw my head within my shell. The movies have wiped out this interesting feature of artistic life and circumstances have dissolved my attachment for the place.

N. L. Collier, cartoonist of the Chicago Journal, having the distinction of being named after an oceanic coal hod, has been amusing himself by clipping headlines from the newspapers. Pasted on his desk are such captions as:


“Who,” he asks, “would want to be a collier?”

The good ship “Breakfast Food,” which is allegorical for your morning paper, made a short cruise at the annual dinner of the Dutch Treat Club at Delmonico’s, New York, recently. The Dutch Treat Club is an organization of artists, cartoonists, and writers. The “Breakfast Food” made its appearance in the opening scene of the comedy, “The Breath of Scandal,” written by James Montgomery Flagg, who played a leading role.

One of the features of the evening was the presentation of birthday honors to deserving members of the club. Arthur William Brown, who illustrates the stories for the Saturday Evening Post, received the Order of the Kodak, which gives him permission to take two negatives of any pretty girl who is without a chaperone. Herb Roth was awarded the Order of the Cave Gentleman, and will be allowed to flaunt an electric sign above his studio door with the inscription “Chez Herb.”

Abe Kabibble, Harry Hershfield’s perennial delight, broke into the League of Cook County Women’s Clubs at Chicago recently. In other words, Mr. Hershfield was invited to address the meeting, and to introduce Abe and his cigar to the ladies.

In his talk Mr. Hershfield told why he had created Abe.

“Abe Kabibble is intended to exemplify a higher type of Jewish humor,” he said. “Previously there had been shown on the stage and in burlesque a type of alleged Jewish humor not at all complimentary to the Jewish people and not at all justified. So I decided to make ‘Abe Kabibble’ a clean-cut, well-dressed specimen of Jewish humor.

“In drawing a cartoon I believe the public should be taken into the artist’s confidence. The idea should be brought home to them.

“I am a Jew and know the life of my people well. The names of the people mentioned in the cartoons are not fictitious. They are the names of people whose families I know.”


Commenting upon the much advertised salaries of Reub Goldberg and other comic artists, the Christian Science Monitor says:

“What would Artemus Ward, Josh Billings, Petroleum V. Nasby, Thomas Nast, and other of the well-known humorists and cartoonists of the nineteenth century, say if they were to know that a humorist who draws ‘comics’ has just been guaranteed a minimum salary of $50,000 a year, and that he expects to make as much more in work ‘on the side’? Before they could make any discriminating reply they would have to consider two facts: the syndicate system, by which a clever man’s work now appears simultaneously in hundreds of papers, and the altered standards of humor.”


Speaking at Valparaiso, Ind., recently, William J. Bryan said that if he were an artist he would go the world over and reproduce one of John T. McCutcheon’s cartoons in which anarchy’s slogan is represented as “Dynamite makes right.”

The Brooklyn Times comes nobly to the defense of the newspaper artist in an editorial reply to Mr. Frederick Dielman, “once president, we believe, of the National Academy of Design.” Mr. Dielman is quoted as saying that there were things published in New York under the name of art which were “simply horrible.” He referred to the cartoons and so-called funny sections of the metropolitan newspapers, and added: “Youngsters come to me who have heard of the large salaries paid to men who draw these things, and are ambitious to become artists of this type.” Says the Times:

“In the name of a discriminating public we rise to ask, who is Frederick Dielman? We know Goldberg, who gets a salary only a trifle less than the annual stipend of Charlie Chaplin; we know Opper; we know Bud Fisher and we know Tom Powers. We feel that we know Art from ‘A’ to ‘T.’ But this Dielman person, who ever offered him fifty thousand a year for a series of comics? By what authority does he speak for Art? Upon what colorful supplement has he scrawled an illegible but glorious signature? Yet, he has the presumption to declare Hans Katzenjammer is not art. He would have us believe Abe Kabibble is something a little lower than a cubist caricature. He cannot find a place for Mr. Jiggs in the classic, the compressionist, the impressionist, the post impressionist, or the depressionist school. Fie on Mr. Dielman! As Leonardo da Vinci once said to Mike Angelo, “Where does he get off?’”

Hal Coffman, the cartoonist, who for some weeks had been trying to locate a mysterious impersonator who was using is name, finally discovered that a Joseph Harold Coffman Welsh, of the Mills Hotel, New York, was the person he was after. The latter, summoned before a police magistrate for disorderly conduct, admitted that he had shortened his name, and had been posing as the cartoonist. The temptation to be known as an artist, he said, had been too much for him, but he was “very sorry.”

The Students’ Art Magazine in an effort to discover from its readers who is America’s greatest cartoonist, appears to be still in the dark. As the result of a vote taken, no two readers selected the same cartoonist, each naming a different one. The logical inference, observes the editor, would be that the present age has produced a great many good cartoonists, but none whose claim to renown stands out preeminently above those of his fellows.

Rube Goldberg

Reub Goldberg’s new animated cartoons, a writer in the New York Telegraph observes, are a reminder that two years ago this artist wrote a number of scenarios for the movies. A New York literary critic said at the time of the films:

“They were so funny that they defeated their own purpose. Hunchbacked generals riding billy goats led scarecrow soldiers to battle, and let 16-inch cannon balls bounce off their bosoms. There was no point of view from which to get an angle on the crazy comedy. No moments of tragic relief. Tragedy to be effective has to have its period of comic relief by way of contrast. The same holds true for comedy. It must start from the normal and proceed to the absurd. The simplest laugh in the world is a man slipping down on a banana peeling. It is laughable because the man is walking along normally with no intention of springing any funny stuff. The sidewalk flies up and smites him in the back of the neck, while his arms and legs fan the air like an overturned turtle. The beholders laugh hysterically. The unexpected transit from the normal to the absurd is comedy. The Goldberg scenarios were so continuously comic that they never switched back to a normal status for the beholder to get his breath and start laughing.”

“We don’t like to be criticising our superiors all the time,” remarks the Ohio State Journal in a moment of pique, “but it does seem to us that, if we got $105,000 per annum for doing no more work than Mr. Bud Fisher does, we wouldn’t put the syndicate to the necessity of explaining at least once a week that, owing to circumstances over which it had no more control than a rabbit, we were unable to do our daily stunt yesterday.”

Because the modernists have stolen their stuff and called it art, the Society of Amateur Fakirs of the Art Students’ League of New York, was forced to give a costume dance this year to raise their annual scholarship fund. The dance was given at the Vanderbilt Hotel on April 5. Formerly the “Fakirs” sold their travesties on the National Academy’s pictures, but since the advent of the modernists, who regard such atrocities as real art, the “Fakirs” have been hard put to it to gain recognition.


A recent cartoon by Cesare in the New York Sun, showing Bryan in the act of scuttling the Ship of State, gains in verisimilitude, observes the Brooklyn Eagle, from the fact that the auger is inserted only above the water line.

Chapin’s cartoon in the St. Louis Republic, showing D. R. Fitzpatrick, the Post Dispatch cartoonist, “breaking into the big league” with his first mustache, is said to be responsible for a mustache epidemic in the suburb of Piedmont, where Chapin lives. More than a score of young men, most of them unmarried, inspired by the cartoon, pledged themselves not to touch a razor to their upper lips for sixty days.

Lee Stanley, of the Central Press Association, is very youthful in appearance. The other day he presented Bill, the office boy, with a pair of theater tickets. Bill, elated at the prospect of an evening’s entertainment with all expenses paid, skipped out of the office relating his good fortune to everybody. “Where’d you get the tickets?” he was asked. “Th’ kid what makes the cartoons give ’em to me,” was the reply.


W. A. Rogers’ cartoon in the New York Herald, entitled “They would never have given up the ship,” should, in the opinion of New York Town Topics, be painted as a historical picture, and hung in the White House. The cartoon depicts President Wilson, pale and haggard, at his desk, considering the “Lusitania” settlement, while behind him are grouped all the former presidents. Mr. Rogers, declares Town Topics, has described the situation exactly.


The Petey statuette, the counterpart of C. A. Voigt’s popular little cartoon character, is now completed. The artist modeled the figure from sculptor’s clay, and will use it as a pattern for the plaster figures that are to follow.  Petey is shown in his favorite chair, his mouth open, and a frown upon his brow. Apparently he has been caught in the act of giving Henrietta a dressing down for wearing a too frivolous costume.

The real Petey Dink, it is said, lives in Rochester, N. Y. He is a successful banker and manufacturer, is short and irascible, and objects very much to being reminded of the fact that he resembles a cartoon.

None of John Roche’s cartoons in the Los Angeles Express is complete without a certain little bug—a namesake, by the way, of the cartoonist. One of the engravers on the paper must be given credit for the first one that appeared. He took the liberty of adding it to one of Roche’s cuts, and, though it was a crude affair, it helped to carry the idea. What was meant for a joke turned out to be a tragedy, for it cost the engraver his job. Now, however, the little cockroach appears on every drawing Roche turns out, while its clever side comments are always appreciated.


By J. N. M. Brown

The writer of the following human document is so far distant that it required three months for his manuscript to reach us.-Editor.

Now that the mercury, as Mrs. Wiggs would say, has riz to zero, I feel sufficiently thawed out to hold a pen. Strange things happen at the north pole. You may doubt it, but one’s brains tend to congeal at a temperature of sixty below zero. At forty below the blood runs thickly, and feeling slowly leaves the extremities. One’s nose, ears, and cheeks freeze, and a thin film of ice forms over the eyeballs. At the very lowest temperature the native leaps head first into a snowdrift, and after thawing out in its genial warmth, plunges forward into the next drift.

Probably you are wondering where I live? If I were to tell you, my community would doubtless cast me out as being too veracious. Suffice it to say that the north pole is adjacent. Frequently it comes and camps in our back yard.

In summer the thermometer goes up to 90, and in the winter, down to 90. This trifling difference of 180 degrees, doesn’t seem to trouble those who have farms or real estate to sell. They say, “Oh, but you don’t feel the cold up here! It’s so dry.” The moment they sell out, they take the train to Panama, where it is warm all the time.

Being an artist, my present activities are confined to caricaturing walruses and Eskimo dogs, making genre pictures of the kitchen stove, and thawing out the water pipes.

Those of you who practice art in more temperate climes may imagine that the immortal fires die out around the arctic circle. But you are wrong. We manage somehow to keep the temperature of our dwellings up to 15 or 20 degrees below the freezing point if there is plenty of fuel. Fuel ran out the other day, and I burned up the dining-room chairs, the beds, the table, and my drawing board.

I claim to be the only artist capable of properly’ portraying the aurora borealis. Most pictures of the northern lights are wrong. They remind me of futurist sketches of the sun. The real thing looks as if the British navy were having search light practice during a Zeppelin raid. You see a large ray of light climb slowly through the sky. Then a few more rays climb up to keep it company. Then they all do the Ziegfeid Follies finale to the tune of “It’s a Grand Old Rag,” scamper from west to east, die down, flare up, die down again, and fill the heavens with a yellow effulgence.


John T. McCutcheon, the versatile cartoonist and war correspondent of the Chicago Tribune, is back from the war. He has brought his dog with him, and Chicagoans feel immensely relieved now that the little canine is back in the corner of John T.’s cartoons, where he belongs. Mr. McCutcheon was stationed at Saloniki, which stronghold he regards as free from attack for the time being.

“I think the most remarkable condition I have ever seen existed prior to January 1 in Saloniki,” he said. “The allied armies were in control. But the civilian Germans, Austrians, and Turks were in constant and almost necessary evidence.

“For example, it was no uncommon incident to see British army officers dining in a German restaurant, of which there were two. There would be a table occupied by British officers and immediately next to it a table at which sat German officers.

“British, Russian, German, French, and, in fact, the consular and diplomatic officers of all nations might be seen dining in the same room. Of course the representatives of warring nations did not intercommunicate.

“This state of affairs continued until the first of the air raids. Immediately came the arrest of all German and Austrian diplomatic representatives. I am inclined to believe, however, that these raids were mostly for the purpose of taking photographs.

“We heard from time to time news that the Germans would begin their advance ‘next week.’ The postponements were as frequent as the announcements, and we finally came to believe that these statements were being made for the purpose of causing the allies to hurry all possible reinforcements to Saloniki, thus weakening other points.

“Whether it was intended to weaken the defenses at the Suez canal or on the western or eastern fronts has not developed, I believe.

“One hears much of the length of the war, but it is all speculation.”


Prominent New York newspaper artists, including T. A. Dorgan, of the Journal, and Oscar Cesare, of the Sun, contributed to a souvenir program for the bazaar held at the Grand Central Palace recently for the benefit of the Jewish war sufferers.

America’s movie cartoonists, according to a recent announcement made by Charles R. MacAuley, have agreed to raise $500,000 as their share of a $1,000,000 actors’ fund. T. A. Dorgan, of the New York Evening Journal, and George McManus head the list of those who have responded to the call for help. The campaign is to be nation wide. Cartoons will be shown in the cinema houses appealing to the generosity of the public. The plans also include a number of public balls and benefits, with a “National Moving Picture Tribute Day” on May 15. Mayors of twenty-five cities will appear on the films in behalf of the movement.

At a dinner given by the publicity committee of the Motion Picture Board of Trade to the cartoonists and newspaper writers at the Hotel Astor, New York, an organized attack was made on the censors. Among those present were Hy. Mayer, Winsor McCay, Fontaine Fox, Rollin Kirby, Frederick Opper, R. M. Brinkerhoff, Ray Rohn, Herb Roth, Cliff Sterrett, R. L. Goldberg, Robert Carter, Hal Coffman, C. Allan Gilbert, George McManus, L. M. Glackens, Gene Carr, H. T. Webster, and W. K. Starrett.


From Cambridge, Mass., comes the report that fair Harvard has been turned upside down by a cartoon booklet entitled “Harvard Inside Out.” The authors are Elmer E. Hagler and Robert C. Bacon, and the idea is borrowed, evidently, from Frank Wing’s “Fotygraft Album.” Thus, Willie Peebles, aged 11, is the interlocutor. Referring to a cartoon of President Lowell, he says:

“That there’s President Lowell. Joe says he’s jest started a finishin’ school fur manly boys down by the Charles River. I shud think it’d interefer with the college a whole lot. Joe says he’s a mighty fine man, though.”

A tribute to Professor Hugo Münsterberg follows: “That’s Hugo Münsterberg. He’s in competition with A. B. Hart for publicity. Jest now Hart’s ahead by about 300 lines, but Hugo’s got an article on the psychic significance of Charlie Chaplin for the Cosmopolitan that’ll put him way in the lead.”


The first cartoonist in need of an idea, suggests the Buffalo Enquirer, might draw a picture of Elihu Root weeping at the grave of Huerta.


An exhibition of St. Patrick cartoons was a feature of a celebration in honor of Ireland’s patron saint, given at the Eastern Cartoon School of Philadelphia.

Robert Minor

Robert Minor, the New York Call cartoonist, who spent several months in the war zone, has been active on the lecture platform since his return. “Travel in Europe these days,” he says, “isn’t exactly a pleasure trip. One of the conditions is that you spend part of your time in jail.”

Mr. Minor was arrested once in France as a German spy, twice in Italy for the same reason, and once in Germany as a British spy. Of the three hours he spent in Germany, two were behind bars.

The stories of atrocities on both sides, he declares, have been greatly distorted. He denounces the news stories from the front, which he pronounces “half truths which are the blackest kind of lies.”

He has been telling socialistic audiences that there are but two nations in the world, “the nation of workers and the nation of parasites.” He is opposed to compulsory military service in the United States, and says that we will be disgraced if we do not at once take the stand that the workingman has no country, and will not fight for the one that is owned by his exploiter.


A movement to interest prominent illustrators and cartoonists in the plans for an adequate national defense has been launched by the Aero Club of America. Among those who have signified their willingness to coöperate are Henry Rueterdahl, the marine artist, James Montgomery Flagg, W. A. Rogers, cartoonist of the New York Herald, and W. K. Starrett, of the New York Tribune. The idea, it is said, was suggested by the remarkable success attending the Brangwyn recruiting posters in England. The organization plans to distribute “preparedness” posters throughout the United States.


For depicting Tommy Atkins drunk, the proprietors of the weekly journal, the London Bystander, were fined recently under the Defense of the Realm Act. The cartoon, which was considered prejudicial to the recruiting campaign, was entitled “Reported Missing,” and showed a British soldier lying in a rather blissful state under a tree with an empty bottle of rum. The picture was drawn by Lieut. C. E. B. Bernard of the Tenth West Yorkshire regiment.


Robert Henry Schulz has left the art staff of the Baltimore News, and is now staff cartoonist for the Binghampton Republican-Herald. In addition to his regular cartoon work he is launching a comic strip entitled “Veronica Versatile and Flossie Forgot.”

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