Awakening the Spirit of Locarno

Our Graphical History Tour, as is so often its wont (where there’s a will, there’s a wont), journeys back a century ago to check up on international developments, this time in the late fall.

"Prins Locarno en Sneeuwwitje" by Louis Raemaekers in De Telegraff, Amsterdam, Nov. 21, 1925

The major European powers reached a peacekeeping agreement at Locarno, Switzerland. A series of treaties were initialed in mid-October, 1925 for official signature on December 1.

"Got Him Going" by Arthur G. Racey in Montreal Star, Nov. 28, 1925

Not everyone was involved in the Locarno conference, however. Racey depicts Russia and the U.S. peering over the fence while Mr. Globehead punches War in the nose. Racey has helpfully written Great Britain, Belgium, France, Germany, and Italy on Mr. Globehead's pate.

It must be pointed out that the conference was strictly among countries of western Europe. No eastern European countries were invited; nor were any nations of Asia, Africa, or the Americas.

"The Real Treaty of Peace" by Wm. A. Rogers in Washington Post, Oct./Nov., 1925

The view from the U.S. was nevertheless hopeful. W.A. Rogers tended to be skeptical of international agreements, so one could perhaps interpret this cartoon to suggest the possibility that the Locarno agreement might fall short of a "real treaty of peace"; he seats Poland at the table even though Poland was not represented at the conference.

You may recall where World War II was started.

"Inside the Breakwater" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Nov. 29, 1925

Nelson Harding's cartoon acknowledged that the agreement would not bring an end to war, but believed that it would keep war from European shores.

"Hier Stehe Ich" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, Nov. 8, 1925

Arthur Johnson meant the above cartoon, drawn sometime around Reformation Day, depicting German Chancellor Hans Luther quoting Martin Luther, as a rebuke of the warlike inclinations of Germany's rivals. The armored knights on the right side of the cartoon include British negotiator Austen Chamberlain and French representative Aristide Briande, while the monk behind Hans/Martin Luther bears resemblance to German delegate Gustav Stresemann.

"Mussolini Furioso" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, Nov. 22, 1925

I do not recognize a representative of Italy in Johnson's November 8 cartoon. Italian dictator Benito Mussolini gets the starring role in his cover cartoon of November 22 after Il Duce gave a speech in Rome glorifying war at what was supposed to be a celebration of the Locarno accords.

I may not have translated the last word of the caption, “Gottstrammbach,” accurately. Literally “God tight stream,” the best I’ve been able to determine is that it’s some sort of colloquialism in Saxony.

"De Aanslag op Mussolini" by Leendert Jordaan in de Notenkraker, Nov. 14, 1925

Speaking of Signore Mussolini: Tito Zaniboni, a former Socialist deputy, was arrested on November 4 for plotting to assassinate Mussolini during a planned public speech. Mussolini seized upon the plot — he may even have engineered it himself — as an excuse to consolidate power and imprison political rivals.

"The True Status of Benito" by "O. Zim" Zimmerman in Daily Worker, Chicago, Nov. 27, 1925

The communists at the Daily Worker labored under the misapprehension that Mussolini was somehow held by the chains of banker J.P. Morgan. This surely would have come as a surprise to Mussolini himself.

"She Had So Many Children She Didn't Know What to Do" by Edward G. McCandish in Washington Post, Oct. 31, 1925

Getting back to the prospects for world peace: Edward McCandish outlined the international disputes outside the Locarno accords' purview. Spain continued their suppression of the Riffian revolt in Morocco. French forces, while also helping put down the Riffian revolt, were forcibly quelling the Hama uprising against French rule in Syria. And Bulgarian soldiers crossed into Greece in "The War of the Stray Dog," a brief skirmish in October allegedly sparked when a Greek soldier chasing a dog across the countries' border was shot and killed.

"This Ought to Be Easy to Settle" by John Knott in Dallas News, Oct./Nov., 1925

The errant sentry and a captain were killed before the Bulgarians withdrew. Greece demanded an apology and reparations, and mobilized its military to occupy the Bulgarian border town of Petrich to enforce its demands.

"Premature" by Rollin Kirby in New York Evening World, Oct./Nov., 1925

The League of Nations stepped in and quickly resolved the conflict between Bulgaria and Greece, which Rollin Kirby* held up as proof to the doubting "Irreconcilables" in Congress that the League could act, and act decisively.

Bulgaria issued an apology for its soldiers' actions and agreed to pay compensation to the first two Greek soldiers' families. The League of Nations made Greece pay Bulgaria to compensate for the occupation of and civilian death toll in Petrich.

"Something Else Again" by Wm. Sykes in Philadelphia Public Ledger, Oct./Nov. 1925

As for Franco-Syrian hostilities, France would quash the Hama uprising by late November, capturing its leaders and bombarding Damascus from air and ground, resulting in large-scale destruction and a death toll in the thousands. Occasional guerilla attacks by the Syrians continued for the next two years, but without achieving independence.

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* Tour Guide's Note: My source credited the "Premature" cartoon to Bill Sykes, I believe incorrectly. I find no signature on the cartoon, either because it is missing or cropped out, but the style, and the copyright line included in the original source indicate to me that Rollin Kirby was the probable cartoonist.

Toons of Thankfulness and Praise

I hope you have saved some room for some leftover Thanksgiving cartoons today. Our Graphical History Tour has whipped up a tasty dish from the editorial and comic pages of 1924.

"Mr. Coolidge Breaks His Silence" by T.H. Webster for N.Y. World's Press Pub. Co., Nov. 27, 1924

Calvin Coolidge, in keeping with longstanding tradition, officially proclaimed that year's national day of Thanksgiving on Thursday, November 27, the last Thursday of the month. The troubled tom in T.H. Webster's cartoon would have waited in vain for a presidential pardon to save him from the butcher's axe.

The tradition of presidents pardoning a turkey or two at Thanksgiving was apparently inaugurated by John F. Kennedy (reports of meleagristic pardons by Abraham Lincoln and Harry Truman are not supported by presidential records). The first official presidential pardon granted to a turkey was by George H.W. Bush in 1989.

"If We All Don't Get Our Share This Year It Won't Be Because the Turkey Isn't Big Enough" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, Nov. 27, 1924

Prosperity Triumphant was the theme of editorial cartoons in many a Thanksgiving Day newspaper in 1924. It was the midpoint of the Roaring ’20's, of course. The stock market was booming, employers were hiring, speakeasies were jumping, and flappers were, uh, flapping.

"We Have with Us Today" by William Hanny in Philadelphia Inquirer, Nov. 27, 1924

Republican-leaning editorial cartoonists offered plenty of cartoons for the day crowing that Americans ought to be thankful to reelected President Calvin Coolidge for the apparently robust economy everyone was enjoying. 

"Even They Have Something to Be Thankful For" by Clifford Berryman in Washington Evening Star, Nov. 27, 1924

Democrats and Progressives, on the other hand, were still eating crow, and the editorial cartoonists who had advocated the election of John Davis or Robert LaFollette shied away from political ruminations for the holiday.

The Gumps by Sidney Smith for Chicago Tribune Service, Nov. 27, 1924

Speaking of unsuccessful presidential candidates: Andy Gump — whose campaign manager had neglected to file Gump's candidacy — used the holiday to wax philosophical about his loss.

"Me and Mine" by Clare Briggs for N.Y. Tribune Co., Nov. 27, 1924

Elsewhere on the comics page, even in 1924, one did not necessarily head home for the holidays. The ladies in Clare Briggs's cartoon agreed to disagree over the relative merits of a home-cooked meal and not having to clean up after one.

"Cap Stubbs" by Edwina Dumm for George Matthew Adams Service, Nov. 27, 1924

It has been a long time since our tour has checked in on one of the very few female comic strip artists of the 1920's, so here is Edwina Dumm, presenting her titular "Cap" Stubbs with one of his typical conundra.

"Your Own Nightmare" by Jim Ring in Washington Times, Nov. 27, 1924

Returning to the editorial page: I guess Jim Ring didn't particularly care for the Thanksgiving holiday. Or perhaps being called upon to draw something for the Washington Times editorial page at the last minute because the editors or publisher there didn't care for whatever it was that their usual cartoonist, T.E. Powers, had offered them for the day.

"And Here's Another Problem" by John Knott in Dallas Morning News, ca. Nov. 26, 1924

As if Jim Ring hadn't burdened you with enough Thanksgiving nightmares, along came John Knott to remind us that it's time to flip the page on the calendar.

So therefore we bid you and yule a fond au revoir, a happy post-Thanksgiving, a toilichte St. Andrew's Day, and a merry month to come.

Gobble fa la la: la la la la!

Splendid Isolation

After Thursday's debacle — er, debate — no, I was right the first time — I for one am willing to try retreating to 1924 and all the global issues facing our presidential candidates that year.

"Der Januskopf de Präsidenten Coolidge" by Werner Hahmann in Kladderadatsch, Berlin, June 1, 1924

I had initially intended to use this German cartoon in my recent post with the cartoons of Republican vice presidential nominee Charles Dawes, since the face on the right speaking to the German people does not look much like the face on the left. The cartoon was drawn before Dawes was tapped for the second spot on the Coolidge ticket, but he would have been the face of the U.S. proposal for settling the European dispute over German war reparations.

The face doesn't look very much like Dawes, either. But on the other hand, Werner Hahmann probably did not have many photos of Dawes in profile to work from. And Coolidge was somewhat new to the world stage.

Either way, it's one (or two) very different depiction/s of "Silent Cal" than one usually sees from the period.

The tiny text at upper right explains the context of the cartoon:

(Auf dem Jaresdiner der "Liga für nationale Sicherheit" sagte Präsident Coolidge, "Swachliches Bertrauen auf die Rechsidee in der Welt hat wenig Wert.")

(At the National Security League's Annual Dinner, President Coolidge said, "Weak confidence in the idea of ​​law in the world is of little value.")

In looking for the original English version of Coolidge's statement, I found that he said in a letter sent to the Security League Annual Dinner, "I need scarcely tell you how vital I believe it to be in the interests of this country to maintain both the Army and the Navy. Feeble righteousness amounts to but little in this world." The letter said nothing about trusting in world justice; but in a speech at the dinner, his Secretary of the Navy, Curtis Wilbur, did express the administration's hope that eventually humanity would accept a World Court where some international disputes could be settled.

The face on the right doesn't look much like Curtis Wilbur, however. So let's move along.

"Has It Come to This" by Orville Williams for Star Company, ca. June 5, 1924

U.S. cartoonists continued to respond with indignation to Japanese protest against the Immigration Act of 1924 passed by Congress over Coolidge's veto. Orville Williams in the Hearst stable of cartoonists was a reliable critic of all things foreign.

"Keep Your Kimono On" by John Knott in Dallas Morning News, ca. June 5, 1924

The Immigration Act of 1924 drastically limited immigration from southern and eastern Europe (read Catholics and Jews), and prohibited immigration entirely from countries whose citizens "by virtue of race or nationality [were] ineligible for citizenship." Drawing on earlier legislation and a 1923 Supreme Court ruling, that language effectively included all natives of Asia. 

No Asian countries had enough military or diplomatic might to make their opinions of the Immigration Act heard on American shores, except for Japan. Japan was a military and colonial power in its own right.

John Knott's cartoon offers the unique view that the Japanese government did not share in that country's offense taken to the patently racist U.S. law. Yet if the Japanese government had not protested the Act, it is doubtful that it would continue to be a cartoonable issue weeks after it was signed into law.

In fact, Japanese Foreign Minister Matsui Keishirō instructed the Japanese ambassador to the U.S., Masanao Hanihara, to write to Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes the Japanese government's dissatisfaction that "the manifest object of the [section barring Japanese immigrants] is to single out Japanese as a nation, stigmatizing them as unworthy and undesirable in the eyes of the American people. ... I realize, as I believe you do, the grave consequences which the enactment of the measure retaining that particular provision would inevitably bring upon the otherwise happy and mutually advantageous relations between our two countries."

"Unsophisticated in Foregn Diplomacy" by Arthur G. Racey in Montreal Gazette, June 10, 1924

I wouldn't be able to translate Japanese cartoons on the subject, assuming that there were some; but here are a couple cartoons drawn outside U.S. borders.

"Einwanderungs-Gesetz" by Arthur Johnson in Kladderadatsch, June 22, 1924

Arthur Johnson's cartoons were generally hostile to American administrations in spite of his American heritage. In this case, I think he's seizing the opportunity to twit both the United States and Japan, allies against Germany in the Great War.

"Better Nail Down the U.S." by Winsor McCay for Star Company, ca. June 12, 1924

I don't see a signature on this Winsor McCay cartoon, which I have sometimes interpreted to mean that he drew it at the behest of publisher William Randolph Hearst without entirely agreeing with it. 

Uncle Sam is shown ignoring voices calling to return to a more open immigration policy, to lend financial aid to Europe as it recovered from war's devastation, to "give up our Navy" — and to free the Philippines.

"While We're Giving" by Albert T. Reid in Rutland Herald, June 16, 1924

At this time, talk of liberating the Philippines, an American-governed territory since the Spanish-American War, was coming from the same the Asiatic Exclusion League that had pushed for the Immigration Act. As citizens of a U.S. territory, Filipinos were not barred from coming to the states — a loophole in the Whites Only law.

The Philippines status as a U.S. territory would nevertheless remain unchanged for at least another ten years.

Meanwhile, in Non-Gump Election News

"Keeping to the Main Highway" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Nov. 9, 1922

I hope you enjoyed our recounting the past two Saturdays of Andy Gump's election to Congress and the recount that took his victory away. But it's time now to get serious and to catch up on what really happened in the off-year election of 1922.

Gustavo Bronstrup, with a nod to the initially victorious Mr. Gump, celebrates the Republican sweep in California that year. Friend Richardson was elected Governor and Hiram Johnson was reelected Senator, both by landslides. (Ironically, Richardson, supported by a Republican majority in the legislature, would proceed to undo several policies enacted when Johnson had been Governor.) 

The Proposition 19 straw man fallen off the back of the car represents a defeated constitutional amendment that would have granted the governor authority to create and fund a board to develop, distribute and fix rates for water and electrical energy.

"Nearly Everybody in the House Knew..." by John Knott in Galveston Daily News, Nov. 10, 1922

The California results ran counter to the national trend that year, however: Democrats gained 72 seats in House and a net gain of six seats in the Senate. 

"Shrinkage? It's a Washout" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Nov. 9, 1922

The Democrats' gain was not quite enough to regain the majority lost in the elections of 1918 and 1920, but was an impressive showing nonetheless, and set off a wave of prognostication as to where the Republican Party had gone wrong.

"Now We'll Hear the Specialists" by Edwin Marcus in New York Times, Nov. 12, 1922

One of Edwin Marcus's "specialists" is an "anti-prohibitionist" who doesn't look anything like the Mr. Dry used by every other cartoonist of the time (see John Cassel, below). That may well be because Mr. Dry looks more like an undertaker than a doctor; but it leaves me suspecting that Marcus had everything drawn before the election results were in but the labels and the elephant head.

"After the Downpour" by John Cassel in New York Evening World, Nov. 10, 1922

To the extent that Republicans were hurt by the "wet" vote, it was primarily because they happened to have more incumbents in office than the Democrats did in 1922. Prohibition sentiments pro and con crossed party lines; support for the 18th Amendment included both conservative Southern Democrats and northern progressive Republicans. Opponents included big-city Democrats and Republicans alike.

"Home Again" by John Knott in Galveston Daily News, Nov. 13, 1922

One of my disappointments in covering the 1922 election is that I was not able to turn up any cartoons by John Knott of the Dallas News and Galveston Daily News having anything substantial to say about the Klan candidate Texas elected to the U.S. Senate that year. Instead, he chose to celebrate Tennessee returning its governor's chair to the Democrats — and I do apologize for that character carrying Miss Tennessee's bags.

"The Retreat of the Lame-Duck Brigade" by John Baer, reprinted in National Leader (Minneapolis), December, 1922

Former Congressman John Baer cites a few of the ailments diagnosed in Edwin Marcus's cartoon and adds a few more: a proposed sales tax (to replace the income tax), an anti-strike bill, and a subsidy for shipbuilders.

What I was expecting to see in the National Leader was a celebration of Minnesotans' election to the Senate of the Farmer-Labor candidate, Henrik Shipstead, ousting Republican Senator Frank B. Kellogg, seated in the wheelchair in Baer's cartoon. (The Democrats' candidate, Anna Dickie Olesen, came in a distant third). The Farmer-Labor Party was the offspring of the Leader's "Non-Partisan League," after all, and the Leader had emblazoned a heroic sketch of Shipstead all over the front page of its November issue.

Front page of National Leader, Minneapolis, MN, November, 1922

Other than that, however, the Leader seems not to have found much to say about his campaign or his election.

Shipstead, a former and future Republican, would serve in the Senate until losing a GOP primary in 1947. An isolationist, anti-Semite, and conspiracy monger (Protocols of the Elders of Zion and all that crap), a senator described by the British Foreign office as "bigoted and crotchety," he is not remembered fondly these days.

"A Case for Careful Diagnosis" by J.N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, Nov. 13, 1922

But returning again to 1922: it must be noted that for all this talk of the Republican Party needing to find out where it had gone wrong, the 1920's would continue to be a solidly Republican decade in most of the United States.

"He Fits the Niche" by John Cassel in New York Evening World, Nov. 8, 1922

To wit: 1922 saw the election of one of the Democratic Party's enduring heroes, Alfred E. Smith, as Governor of New York. As the party's presidential nominee in 1928, he would lead the Democrats to their third consecutive landslide loss.

And lucky for him, too.

Big Al's Sports Report (Love That Tinkle!)

In honor of the World Series, in which no other country in the world has been invited to play, Sliderback Saturday winds up and pitches some cartoons from the even more exclusive World Series of 1922.

"The Fan" by Clifford Berryman in Washington (DC) Evening Star, Oct. 4, 1922

Not only was the 1922 World Series limited to teams from one country, it was limited to teams from just one city. The series pitted the New York Giants against the New York Yankees, so you might suppose that the rest of the country would have lost all interest in what had become a strictly New York affair.

"Total" by Bill Sykes in Philadelphia Evening Ledger, Oct. 4, 1922

But that wouldn't sell papers, would it?

"The Ball Weevils" by John Knott in Galveston Daily News, Oct. 8, 1922

If any interest in the series fell off in the rest of the country, there were still enough fans of the game, or at least gambling on it, to warrant this cautionary cartoon out of Dallas.

Any gamblers who bet on the Yankees were shut out of luck: the New York Baseball Giants swept them four games to none. (There were five games in this subway series; Game 2 ended in a 3-3 tie after ten innings.)

"Hats Off to M'Graw" by Bud Counihan in New York Evening World, Oct. 9, 1922

One newspaper job that disappeared decades ago was that of the sports cartoonist. Major newspapers like the New York Evening World might even have more than one on staff.

Here Bud Counihan salutes the winning coach, John J. McGraw and illustrates highlights of the final game of the series for the benefit of those who might have only read about the games the next day in the paper, if they didn't happen to have access to one of them new-fangled radio thingamabobs.

"Oh, the Melancholy Days" by John Knott in Galveston Daily News, Oct. ,4 1922

Fortunately for fans then and now, if one's baseball team falls by the wayside short of the World Series, one can always turn to football. It's the start of the gridiron season, and anything is still possible.  

"Impressions of the Pitt-Bucknell Football Game" by Bertin F. Link in Pittsburgh Press, Oct. 29, 1922

Judging by the sports cartoonists of the day, there were more fans of college-level football than of the professional variety. The newly-named National Football League consisted of sixteen teams, only two of which remain with us today: the Decatur Staleys (now the Chicago Bears) and Racine/Chicago (now Arizona) Cardinals.

"A Tragedy of the Football Field" by John T. McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, Oct. 29, 1922

One thing that has changed has been efforts to protect football players from serious injury. You'll notice in these cartoons that the football players' helmets are nothing more than leather caps. They have no mouth guard (although by the 1920's, some players were improvising attempts at creating them); disfiguring facial injuries were commonplace. Concussions were expected and accepted. 

This may seem difficult to believe, but in football, there was more of a priority in protecting the player’s upper body, than in head protection. The invention of football shoulder pads was by L.P. Smock, who was a student a Princeton. His 1877 design were made of wool and leather and were actually stitched onto the player’s jersey. After the turn of the century, we see the development of the ‘harnessed’ shoulder pads that are over the head and attached via the chest area. While an improvement in design, they continued to be made of a combination of canvas and leather. It wasn’t until the 1960’s and 70’s that plastic shoulder pads appeared. By the 1990’s we saw the advent of the bulky padding that our players today wear.

"Speaking of Fullbacks" by Woodson M. Cowan for George Matthew Adams Syndicate, ca. Oct. 13, 1922

The general attitude was that players were tough guys able to withstand a little brain damage. Since the print is quite small, I'll point out the doctor examining University of Iowa fullback Gordon Locke on the right side of Iowa native Wood Cowan's cartoon:

Scientist: "The X-ray shows your skull to be exceedingly thick."

Text: "Scientist discovered that his dome is especially constructed for use as battling ram to hit the line with."

As pointed out elsewhere in the cartoon, Locke was no simple-minded bonehead. He would graduate third in his class at the University of Iowa College of Law, graduating in the top three of his law school class. After coaching football at U of I and Western Reserve University, he was general assistant law director for the city of Cleveland, then general counsel in Washington D.C. for the Committee for Oil Pipe Lines.

Sticking with football for one more cartoon, I'll note here that off the playing field, striking coal miners had reached agreements with mine owners and gone back to work. But then as now, supply chain issues meant that cold weather was moving in before adequate supplies of coal to heat everyone's homes and businesses. What supplies there were fetched premium prices.

"Neighborhood News" by Fontaine Fox for Wheeler Syndicate, Oct. 28, 1922

Then as now, it was surely all Joe Biden's fault.

Dropping the Captain Morgan

The Columbus Day / Native Americans Day Holiday Weekend is upon us (please celebrate responsibly), so of course, our Graphical History Tour needs must get underway with this nod to the bifurcated festivities:

"Landing of Columbus in 1922" by John Knott in Galveston Daily News, Oct. 12, 1922

Leading off with John Knott for the third week in a row? Why not?

The issue Knott is so crudely addressing here is a ruling by Attorney General Harry M. Daugherty prohibiting foreign vessels in American waters from carrying alcoholic beverages. Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes backed up Daugherty's ruling by asserting a right of U.S. law enforcement to board any foreign vessel to confiscate or destroy whatever liquor they found.

"A Good Way to Start Something" by Dennis McCarthy in New Orleans Times-Picayune, Oct. 19, 1922

Predictably, this didn't sit well with other countries. The British and French government protested against Daugherty's ruling, and threatened reprisals. Seven ships of the Cunard and Bright Star line set sail from England for American ports, fully stocked with liquor aboard, daring the U.S. to go ahead and try to do something about it.

"Marooned" by Dorman H. Smith for Newspaper Enterprise Assn., ca. Oct. 11, 1922

"For Mutiny on the High Seas" by Elmer Bushnell for Central Press Assn., ca. Oct. 14, 1922

The practical considerations of Daugherty's ruling were daunting. Another country's luxury liner might have tons of beer, wine, and liquor aboard, more than could be safely off-loaded to some other ship at the three-mile limit (in those days) of U.S. territorial waters — especially during inclement weather. 

"Dropping the Profits" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Oct. 30, 1930

(Nelson Harding's cartoon, and the title of this post, parody a famous cartoon by Sir John Tenniel in Punch.)

"The Old Man of the Sea" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, Oct. 19, 1922

Daugherty's ruling also extended Prohibition to U.S.-registered ships outside territorial waters of the United States. "Under the rules of fair intendment," he wrote, "America's ships, wherever they may be, are included in the terms of the Eighteenth Amendment."

He thus closed a loophole that benefitted the sort of people who could afford international cruises. Now they would have to wait until they disembarked at their destination before enjoying a drink at the bar.

"Rewriting It" by Rollin Kirby in New York World, Oct. 28, 1922

"I can prove to you that Mr. Daugherty is the greatest lawmaker of all time," Albert D. Lasker, chair of the Shipping Board, told the audience at a dinner at which he and Daugherty shared the dais. "Moses only made the Red Sea dry."

And so, having solved the pesky problem of boozy cruises, the prohibitionists could now turn attention to plugging some other holes in the Volstead Act. 

Detail from "Some Big Holes" by John McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, Oct. 18, 1922