Dispatches from the Workers Paradise

Today's Graphical History Tour brings us to October of 1926.

Detail from "A Week in Cartoons" by Marvin P. "Hay" Bales in Daily World, Chicago, Oct. 9, 1926

We have a couple stops in this week's Tour, starting back in the U.S.S.R. 

Last week's post closed with an overly optimistic cartoon by A.G. Racey on the promise of lasting peace (a view shared, to be fair, with several other cartoonists). Marvin Bales's cartoon reminds us that there was no cessation of international rivalries in Europe, nor any shortage of bilateral pacts in defense against them. 

"The Cause of the Pause in Disarmament" by James North in Washington (DC) Post, Oct. 3, 1926

Fears of Russian expansionism, however, united governments in Europe and the United States. James North depicted the League of Nations' Disarmament Conference interrupted by the Russian bear reaching to grab Poland, the Baltic states, and China.

It's interesting that North included Turkey as also threatened by Russian domination. The countries actively discussing taking over and dismembering Kemal Attaturk's Turkey at the time were Italy and Greece.

"These Must Be Heard" by A. Jerger in Daily Worker, Chicago, Oct. 2, 1926

Meanwhile, the American Federation of Labor (AFL) held its annual convention in Detroit, in an atmosphere of  alarm over Soviet influence in the worldwide labor movement. Anti-communist prosecution had largely hobbled the "Wobblies" of the International Workers of the World union; the AFL, on the other hand, shunned communist involvement.

"Not the Sort of Recognition I'm After" by Clifford Berryman in Evening Star, Washington DC, Oct. 14, 1926

The 1926 convention unanimously passed a resolution denouncing "the Soviet regime of Russia as the most unscrupulous, most anti-social, most menacing institution in the world today. Between it and our form of political and social organization there can be no compromise of any kind." 

"Through the Red Internationale, which is controlled by the Communist Party of Russia, the Soviet regime has continued its efforts to undermine and destroy the Democratic-Labor movement of the United States. Its lack of any progress in that direction is due, not to any lack of determination on its part, but to the strength and deep determination of the membership of the American trade union movement." 

A competing resolution urging U.S. recognition of the Russian government was not brought to a vote.

"Putting on the Lid" by Fred Seibel in Richmond Times-Dispatch, Oct. 20, 1926

A similar resolution against the fascist regime in Italy received less attention from American editorial cartoonists. It read in part, "In fascism we find only another form of dictatorship and autocracy, a principle of government that can never find anything but opposition in the minds of free people."

"The Big Parade" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn. ca. Oct. 11, 1926

A more controversial stand taken at the AFL convention was advocating for a five-day work week. At the time, most workers were expected to be on the job six, even seven days a week, for ten or more hours each day. Workers rights organizations had been calling for shorter hours for years; AFL President William Green noted that the five-day work week had already been adopted in some branches of the printing and building trades, and during the summer in some department stores.

The most prominent convert to the five-day work week in 1926 was a big name in the automotive industry.

"Can He Make the Grade" by Dean O'Dell in Dayton Daily News, Oct. 9, 1925

Henry Ford instituted the five-day, 40-hour work week at his automobile plant on May 1, 1926, believing that it would benefit both the company and its workforce — and not incidentally, dampen any enthusiasm among employees for joining a union. His public explanation was that “Every man needs more than one day a week for rest and recreation.”

"The New Commandment" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, Oct. 6, 1926

"Ding" Darling cited the biblical command to labor six days out of every seven. I would note that by phrasing its caption as a question and drawing a car in danger of overheating, Dean O'Dell's cartoon casts a shade of doubt upon the success of Ford's five-day work week.

"Out of Order" by Jesse Cargill for Central Press Assn., ca. Oct. 13, 1926

A feature story by L.L. Stevenson for Detroit News marking the 80th birthday of Elbert "Judge" Gary, Chairman of United States Steel, summed up his opinion on the five-day workweek and other labor issues:

For the steel industry, he holds that such a week would be utterly impractical since so many of the operations are continuous. He does not think much of the proposal to unionize the automotive industry. Labor unions when they attempt to dictate when and where a man shall work are in the wrong. English labor unions have become too radical.  Prohibition has increased the efficiency of the American workingman.

"I don't absolve the bad features," he continued. "You must average up things. On the whole, the workingman is better off. If I had been writing the law, I would have excluded beer and light wines, though in my opinion, neither benefits the workingman in any way."

And yet, the five-day work week soon became the norm in much of the industrialized world. For younger generations, it was all they knew since childhood.

"A Popular Movement" by Harold Talburt for United Feature Syndicate, ca. Oct. 9, 1926

Will You Be Mine?

'Tis February 14, and our Graphical History Tour turns lightly to thoughts of love!

Holidays of any sort are a godsend to editorial cartoonists, because we can just check the calendar, and thinking up our cartoon is halfway there. Is it Valentine's Day? Surely there's a job somewhere that would be just perfect for Mr. Cupid. 

Or his understudy.

"Love's Labor Lost" by Sam Hunter in Toronto Daily Star, Feb. 13, 1926

Canada's Conservative Party leader Meighen continued to woo the Progressive Party for enough support to form an improbable coalition government, making for fairly obvious Valentine's Day cartoonistry. Conservatives had won more seats in Parliament than its rivals in the November, 1925 elections, whereas Liberals and Progressives had both lost seats; thanks to a very few minor party members, neither the Conservatives nor the pre-election Liberal-Progressive coalition could muster a governing majority.

"Saint Valentine's Day, 1926" by Arthur Racey in Montreal Star, Feb. 13, 1926

As a fan of the Liberals, Hunter was happy to lampoon the Conservatives' plight. Tory partisan A.G. Racey used the romantic holiday instead to complain about The Kids Today drinking and smoking and wearing rouge.

Who knew that St. Valentine wore glasses?

"Wanted a Valentine" by Clifford Berryman in Washington [DC] Sunday Star Feb. 14, 1926

Down in the States, Congress passed a tax cut bill that was deeper than the Coolidge administration had asked for. Clifford Berryman availed himself of the holiday to depict the bill as a surplus of valentine cards for Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon.

"Valentines" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Feb. 13, 1926

Gustavo Bronstrup sent a tax cut Valentine to a happy taxpayer, and also drew valentine cards from Californians to their Governor (considering a run for federal office), from a traffic cop to a motorist (admonishing for breezing through red lights yet lingering at green ones), and the U.S. over the Senate's vote in favor of joining the World Court.

"A Hint to the Wise Should Be Sufficient" by Ed LeCocq in Des Moines Register, Feb. 14, 1926

Because of conditions included in that Senate bill, the U.S. never actually joined the World Court — nor the League of Nations — before they were dissolved in 1945. Accordingly, Ed LeCocq's Uncle Sam, despite his valentine to Mlle. League, had not gotten over his commitment issues.

"They Have the Exits and Their Entrances" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St Louis Post-Dispatch, Feb. 14, 1926

Meanwhile, events were building that would test Uncle Sam's isolationist commitment to bachelorhood. Italy's il Duce was a topic of several Valentine's Day cartoons in 1926, and one that defied any allusion to love notes, flowers, and boxed chocolates.

Whereas editorial cartoonists today liken our modern fascist leaders to Mussolini and Hitler, cartoonists in the 1920's and '30's compared far-right politicians of their day to wartime foes of even earlier times.

"Römischer Karneval" by Oskar Garvens in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Feb. 14, 1926

Oskar Garvens's allusion to Napoleon rings somewhat more true than Daniel Fitzpatrick's to Kaiser Wilhelm, insofar as the most alarming part of a Mussolini speech to the Chamber of Deputies on February 6 were remarks that stopped just shy of declaring war against Austria and Germany. Denying alarmist complaints from Bavarian leaders that Italy had torn down a statue of a German poet and had also prohibited residents of former Austrian territories from having Christmas trees, Mussolini threatened, "Fascist Italy can, if necessary, carry her flag beyond the Brenner frontier" between Italy and Austria.

"Il re bambino" in Garvens's cartoon is Italy's King Victor Emmanuel III, known during World War I as "il Re Soldato" (the soldier king). At 56 years of age, the king was hardly a "bambino"; but his short stature was exaggerated by German cartoonists, especially after the Italian government broke antebellum agreements with Germany and sided with the Entente powers.

"Diplomacy's Sea Becoming Turbulent" by T.E. Powers for Star Newspapers, Feb. 13, 1926 

A few months earlier, Mussolini had celebrated the Locarno peace accords with a public rant, er, speech glorifying war. Mussolini's tirades full of bluster and bravado against Italy's neighbors alarmed leaders across the continent.

"Showing Off" by Carey Orr in Chicago Tribune, Feb. 14, 1926

Remind you of anyone?

Carey Orr's cartoon includes a laundry list of affronts to European diplomacy in addition to the latest "Insult to Germany": Fascisti defiance of France, Corfu insult to Greece, Threat to take control of Mediterranean from England, and Threat against Balkans. 

"Some of These Days He Will Puncture Himself Doing That" by Wm. Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Feb. 14, 1926 

Hubris will get you only so far. But that lesson would only come after another nine years and another World War.

...and Farewell

"Columbia proved unequal to Uncle Sam and gradually was replaced as a common cartoon character." — The Ungentlemanly Art, Stephen Hess and Milton Kaplan, 1968

Today's Graphical History Tour continues following the career of Lady Columbia into the 20th Century.

"Pan-American Puck" by Samuel Ehrart in Puck, May 8, 1901

As the personification of the nation, Lady Columbia was riding high at the turn of the century. She welcomed South America to the 1901 Pan-American exposition in Buffalo, New York (where President McKinley would be assassinated).

Ehrart's cartoon illustrated the host nation's hope that, in the words of Puck's editors,

"We have extended our trade horizon to include the Antipodes, but we have not yet secured the trade of our nearest neighbors. Central and South America still find reasons for going elsewhere to do most of their shopping. The weightiest of these reasons have to do with a certain protective tariff, and the disposition of them must await the enlightenment of a certain majority of the voters,— a condition happily promising for the near future. ... Incidentally we shall become better acquainted with the resources of our own island possessions and give their people, perhaps, a more favorable view of their relationship to us than they have thus far been able to gather."

"A Fair Return" by Louis Raemaekers in Chicago Examiner,  August 15, 1917

World War I raged in Europe for three years before the U.S. entered the fray. Dutch cartoonist Louis Raemaekers welcomed U.S. entry into World War I by depicting Lady Columbia embracing Marianne, the personification of France, telling her, "When I was a child it was you who saved me."

Columbia's gown doesn't have the usual flag motif in Raemaekers cartoon — perhaps because white stars are hard to draw in charcoal.

"It's a Great Day for America" by Albert T. Reid in National Republican, Nov. 3, 1920

The stars and stripes are back in Albert Reid's cartoon. Lady Columbia, here updating her wardrobe from the robes of classical Rome to congratulate President-elect Warren Harding, was often enlisted to welcome a new administration to office.

"My Harp Is Also Turned to Mourning" by Gennette in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Sept. 7, 1901

One of Lady Columbia's chief roles in editorial cartoons was as chief mourner for the country. Cartoonists drew her grieving at the deaths of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley (in this case), Harding, and the Roosevelts, as well as other prominent figures in the news. 

"Columbia's Anguish" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Jan. 30, 1922

Here she mourned collapse of the Knickerbocker Theater in the nation's capital that killed 98. It is possible that Berryman drew this particular Columbia to represent the District of Columbia, where the tragedy occurred, instead of the bespectacled and bewigged 18th-Century gentleman that he usually drew to represent the capital city. This Columbia lacks the Phrygian cap and wears full-length mourning black.

"Hail and Farewell" by Clyde Batchelor in Washington Times-Herald, April 13, 1945

Every reference I have found about Miss Columbia agrees that she went out of fashion sometime in the 1920's, Uncle Sam, the Statie of Liberty, and the eagle becoming the go-to cartoon personifications of the United States. 

I did find this 1945 Batchelor cartoon of her paying her respects to Franklin Delano Roosevelt upon his death the day before. Perhaps because Batchelor disagreed with much of FDR's policy (his April 12 cartoon accused the administration of covering up warnings of the attack on Pearl Harbor), his Columbia isn't racked with grief she typically was for earlier fallen presidents.

Looking back at my post a few years ago of cartoons drawn after President McKinley's assassination, whereas Columbia knelt in grief, it was Uncle Sam who meted stern justice to the assassin.

Today, Lady Columbia would be horrified and ashamed of the present government’s wanton murder and disappearing of its citizens. What would Uncle Sam be doing?

"His 146th Birthday" by Charles Kuhn in Indianapolis News, July 4, 1922

One does notice Columbia fading into the background, cartoon-wise. At the nation's 146th birthday, she serves the cake; but it's Uncle Sam's birthday, not hers, even though he was at most a mere 110 years old.

"Uncle Sam Will Take a Little of the Stuffing" by Wm. A. Rogers in Washington Post, Nov. 26, 1925

At Thanksgiving, Columbia serves the dinner, and while Uncle Sam frets that he'll have to settle for a little stuffing, there doesn't even appear to be a seat for her at the table. Unless a chair is hidden behind that turkey, Lady Columbia must have been demoted to kitchen staff.

"Why Not Flowers for the Living, Too" by Winsor McCay for Hearst newspapers, May 30, 1925

Would Uncle Sam deliver a bouquet of flowers to wounded veterans?

One theory is that Columbia as a cartoon character fell into disuse in the 1920's once she became the mascot for Columbia Pictures. Columbia Pictures wasn't named after her directly; the movie company was a division of Columbia Records, which was originally headquartered in the District of Columbia.

"Some Day They'll Come Crawling Back to Her" by Joseph Parrish in Chicago Tribune, June 26, 1948

Last week's post began with a cartoon of a female "America Triumphant" drawn before she was given the name Columbia, so we'll end here with one of that familiar lady, back in her liberty cap and Romanesque robe, but without the name coined by Edward Cave over two centuries before.

Christmas 1925

Welcome to our Graphical History Tour Christmas Special! We're just about through with the year 1925, when peace, goodwill, and sobriety reigned, and all was right with the world.

"Merry Christmas" by William Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Dec. 25, 1925

I'm going to let Bill Hanny represent all the cartoonists who updated their Thanksgiving for General Prosperity cartoon for the next holiday on the calendar. The happy recipient of an overstuffed stocking here was Father Penn, the cartoon personification of the state of Pennsylvania, and not the guy on the Quaker Oats canister.

"Uncle Sam's Dream of Christmas" by Edward G. McCandlish in Washington Post, Dec. 25, 1925

McCandlish at the Washington Post expands on Hanny's theme, depicting a serving of Plenty, a Christmas tree festooned with Peace, Security, and No Foreign Entanglements; and, at lower right, an agreement between labor and management averting a coal miners' strike. That agreement hadn't actually materialized yet when this cartoon was drawn, however.

"The Very Thing He Wanted Most" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Dec. 25, 1925

Up the road at the Star, Clifford Berryman's Everyman had a more limited wish list. To his delight, Congress had passed the Coolidge administration's tax cut, to take effect in 1926.

"Good Will to Men" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Dec. 24, 1925

Gustavo Brunstrup shared the San Francisco Chronicle's optimism that the U.S. Senate would overcome three years of obstruction by its "irreconcilables" and join Europe in agreeing to participate in the World Court.

"Christmas Bells" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Dec. 24, 1925

Critics of the Coolidge administration such as Daniel Fitzpatrick might begrudge Republicans their peace and prosperity; they could still celebrate the Locarno agreements among the major European powers putting an end to war (offer not valid in Morocco, Syria, and Iraq), and the Geneva Protocol, drafted in June, banning chemical and biological weapons.

"The Face at the Window" by Ed LeCocq in Des Moines Register, Dec. 24, 1925

Ed LeCocq used the celebration of "the new spirit of mutual cooperation" and "comforts of capital and trade intercourse" in Europe to point out one country that was left out: Russia. 

"The Face at the Window" used to be a common cartoon theme in the Christmas season. In most such cartoons I've seen, that Face is a pitiable, sympathetic figure, left out of the warmth, feasting, and bonhomie inside, reminding readers of the plight of the poor. The cultural references that Google up for this forgotten cliché, however, are tales of criminals, murderers, and ghosts plotting their way in.

Perhaps that's why cartoonists stopped using "The Face at the Window" as a caption.

"Besorgnis" by Arthur Krüger in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Dec. 13, 1925

A pair of German cartoons took skeptical views in varying degrees of Europe's newfound international comity. In Arthur Krüger's cartoon, Germany, France, Britain, Belgium, and Italy merrily dance around their Christmas tree, with its "Peace on Earth" topper, but Not-So-Jolly St. Nicholas worries that they are about to carelessly kick the whole thing over. In an age when candles, not LED lights, lit up the Christmas tree, knocking the tree over was liable to get it considerably too lit up.

"Der Untaugliche Nussknacker" by Werner Hahmann in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Dec. 27, 1925

Werner Hahmann's Angel of Peace found the League of Nations (Völker Bund) not up to the task of cracking Disarmament (Abrüstung). 

These German cartoonists in the 1920's really were a bunch of sour pusses. It's as if they knew they were between the Wars.

"In the Hollow of His Hand" by Jesse Cargill for King Features Syndicate, ca. Dec. 24, 1925

Returning to America, I'm not sure what to make of Santa Claus holding the globe in the hollow of his hand. Does Jesse Cargill's Santa Claus look as annoyed to you as he does to me? He almost looks like he's getting ready to throw it at someone.

"Aw-w, There Ain't No Santa Claus" by Leslie Rogers in Chicago Defender, Dec. 26, 1925

There's no mistaking Leslie Rogers's intentions. Rogers's cartoon for the African-American newspaper the Chicago Defender ran alongside an editorial decrying the lynching in Clarksdale, Mississippi of Lindsey Coleman after a jury had acquitted him of murder charges. This while southern Senators were successfully filibustering the Dyer Anti-Lynching Bill for the third consecutive Congress.

"The Night Before Christmas" by Sam Hunter in Toronto Star, Dec. 24, 1925

Meanwhile, in Canada, the Progressive and Liberal Parties had both lost seats to the Conservatives in October elections, but not enough of them for the Conservatives to have a majority. Robert Forke's third-place Progressives had lost 36 of their previous 58 seats in Parliament, but held the balance of power between William Mackenzie King's Liberals, with whom they were more ideologically inclined, and Arthur Meighen's Conservatives.

"The Spirit of a White Christmas" by James Fitzmaurice in Vancouver Daily Province, Dec. 24, 1925

Shunting politics aside, James Fitzmaurice gets us back to some Christmas Spirit. The cartoon's "Mr. Citizen" had finished his shopping, subscribed to the newspaper's charitable fund (charity drives were a common newspaper practice at Christmastime), and apparently had a couple of libations he doesn't want to talk about. 

"Minus Whiskers and Reindeer" by Roy James in St. Louis Star, Dec. 24, 1925

Roy James noted that Santa was not the only one doing the heavy lifting for the holiday. 

"The Annual Daze" by Chester Gould in Chicago Evening American, ca. Dec. 25, 1925

The editorial cartoons of Chester Gould, later creator of "Dick Tracy," have appeared here before. This cartoon predates the pointy-chinned copper by about five years, and seems at first glance to be a light-hearted little gag about office employees not having their minds on their work between Christmas and New Year's.

Then one notices the little dingbat in the lower left corner. What Lincoln getting shot has to do with anything else in Gould's cartoon is completely beyond me.

So let us wrap up this week's Graphical Holiday Tour with a simple Christmas card with no weirdness, politics, faces at windows, or diareses

"Merry Christmas to Our Readers" by J.T. Alley in Commercial Appeal, Memphis Tenn., Dec. 25, 1925

And likewise to mine.

Got the Kit As Well As the Kaboodle

Today's Graphical History Tour serves up some leftover turkey from Thanksgiving Day, 1925.

"Your Uncle Sam Is Good at This" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. Nov. 26, 1925

Editorial cartoonists greeted Thanksgiving a century ago with confidence and exuberance that the nation was awash in good times. The United States happily enjoyed peace and prosperity, even if the rest of the world was still recovering from World War I, revolting against colonial occupiers, or fighting to put down rebellious colonies.

"Some Stuffin'" by Ed Gale in Los Angeles Times, Nov. 26, 1925

Ed Gale lays out his specific ingredients for Uncle Sam's turkey stuffing. I'm not as confident as he was, however, that farmers in 1925 were enjoying prosperity as much as the auto makers, railroad barons, construction trades, and radio stations.

"Truly Thankful" by Dean O'Dell in Dayton Daily News, Nov. 26, 1925

A reader left a comment on my cartoon last week of Donald Napoleon Trump shushing Miss Columbia; she wondered when it was that the female characterization of the United States went out of fashion. That might be a topic for a future Graphical History Tour; but for now, here Columbia is settling down for Thanksgiving dinner with her male counterpart, Uncle Sam.

I was a bit surprised to come across her in Dean O’Dell’s cartoon; her star was fading by 1925. She rarely appeared in editorial cartoons any more, except at the bier of deceased presidents. 

"Uncle Sam Will Take a Little of the Stuffing" by Wm. A. Rogers in Washington Post, Nov. 26, 1925

I'm not quite as surprised to find Miss Columbia serving Thanksgiving dinner in this cartoon by William A. Rogers. This is very late in Rogers's career, which began when he succeeded Thomas Nast at Harper's Weekly in 1877, a time when Columbia was a frequent subject of editorial cartoons. (Dean O'Dell, in contrast to the 71-year-old Rogers, was 35 in 1925, ten years into a thirty-year cartooning career.)

What really separates Rogers's cartoon from the rest in today's post is how he uses the holiday occasion not to celebrate but to complain: that "Big U.S. Banker" and the European powers represented at the Locarno conference (see last Saturday's post) — even "Little Belgium" — are going to leave poor old Uncle Sam with nothing but a little of the stuffing.

Well, every party needs its pooper.

"Dr. Hoover Makes His 1925 Report" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Nov. 8, 1925

Just for some context, here are a couple of cartoons celebrating the heady economic news coming out of Washington D.C. Clifford Berryman's cartoon depicts Commerce Secretary Herbert Hoover delivering an excellent bill of health to Uncle Sam.

"Having the Time of His Life" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. Nov. 12, 1925

Neither Berryman nor Dorman Smith could know that within months of Herbert Hoover taking the presidential oath of office four years later, that crashing sound from Wall Street would hardly be music to anybody's ears.

"Let Us Repair to the Dining Room" by Bill Donahey in Cleveland Plain Dealer, Nov. 26, 1925

But we return now to Thanksgiving 1925, and the requisite eating, drinking, and being merry, for tomorrow is always a day away.

"Thanksgiving at Aunt Maria's" by Archibald Chapin for New York Tribune, Nov. 26, 1925

Archibald Chapin overloaded this cartoon with labels, and since the print is probably too small for any of you reading this on a handheld screen, I'll give you some description. Those seated around the table include "the young man from the county seat," Cousin Dottie, Grandma Wyatt, the Minister, Aunt Maria, Aunt Abbie, Uncle Ham, Cousin Stella, the minister's wife, and Uncle George. Cousin Ada's chair is empty because she's heading to the kitchen. Three children are in another doorway "waiting for the second table." I'll forgo reciting all the dishes on the table and buffet, save to note that there are turkey, ham, and oysters, and two each of cakes and pies.

Chapin's Aunt Maria is saying to The Minister on her right: "Really, Brother Stephens, I'm sorry we haven't much to eat this Thanksgiving." And I should probably point out that Aunt Maria could have been Hispanic or Italian but probably wasn't; the name is common in Scandinavian and Germanic countries as well.

Authoritative cartooning historians tell me that Chapin was employed by the Philadelphia Morning Ledger and syndicated by Ledger Syndicate in 1925, yet this cartoon and others of his that year sport copyright notices crediting the New York Tribune. My guess is that the Tribune was distributing Chapin's cartoons during the illness that kept Jay N. "Ding" Darling away from his drawing board for much of 1925 and early '26.

In conclusion, here's a cautionary tale against gluttony, even if it comes too late for anyone whose eyes were bigger than their waistlines on Thursday:

"I Warned Him His Appetite Would Be the Death of Him" by J.P. Alley in Memphis Commercial Appeal, Nov. 26, 1925

But I have to quibble with Doc Featherbones's post mortem diagnosis. It wasn't Tom's own appetite what done him in.