Happy Fifth of Fourth

It's the Fifth of July and most of us still have all ten fingers, so in celebration of this extra long Independence Weekend, the Graphical History Tour sets the dial back five fourths of a century ago to July 4, 1900.

"Independence Day" by C.E. Toles in St. Paul Globe, July 4, 1900

We kick things off with an illustration by a cartoonist Allan Holtz called "the mysterious master." The highly stylized signature is a challenge to read; a researcher at the Library of Congress has concluded that the cartoonist was T.E. Coles, syndicated by the International Syndicate of Baltimore, but I lean toward those who have identified him as Claude Eldridge Toles, 1875-1901.

So, apparently, does Mr. Holtz, and that's plenty good enough for me.

I found this in the St. Paul Globe, where his work was featured regularly. Toles, however, lived his entire, brief life in New York state. (Any relation to the now retired Buffalo News and Washington Post cartoonist?)

"That Recent Trip to Lincoln, Neb." by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, July 4, 1900

My posts featuring historical cartoons began with examples from the Minneapolis Tribune's book of Rowland C. Bowman's editorial cartoons for the year 1900 ― a book left to me by my Aunt Barbara Jensen and since donated to the Billy Ireland Cartoon Museum because I do not have a climate-controlled room suitable to preserve it. The book included several cartoons mocking Democratic presidential nominee William Jennings Bryan, but not this one.

Bryan received the Democratic Party's nomination (for a second time) in Kansas City, Missouri on Independence Day, 1900, having already accepted the presidential nomination of the Populist Party. The Prairie Populist from Nebraska was not a favorite of the Eastern Establishment; but David Hill, a former New York Governor and Senator, had endorsed Bryan in 1896, partly due to his own rivalry with fellow New Yorker President Grover Cleveland. 

"Creating Business for the (Political) Undertaker" by Carter Simons in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, July 3, 1900

Hill is in the forefront of this Independence Eve Brooklyn Eagle cartoon (the Eagle did not publish on July 4), next to Tammany Hall boss Richard Croker. Hill was in serious contention for the Democrats' vice presidential nomination in 1900, but that went to Adlai Stevenson of Illinois instead.

Bryan had campaigned in 1896 on a platform of free coinage of silver at a ratio of silver to gold of 16 to 1, a position then popular in the rural west but strongly opposed by Cleveland and the "Gold Democrats." The "free silver" issue had lost some of its appeal by 1900, however, thanks in part to the Klondike gold rush.  

"Watching the Pinwheel Spin" by Leon Barritt in New York Tribune, July 4, 1900

In the meantime, the U.S. had taken possession of Cuba, Puerto Rico, Guam, and the Philippines after winning the Spanish-American War. Bryan's new issue was anti-imperialism. The 19th Century "manifest destiny" of pushing the nation's borders all the way to the Pacific was one thing; becoming a colonial power on the other side of the globe (with new territories moreover populated by dark-skinned Catholics and heathens!) was another thing entirely.

"The Chicago Platform Applied in St. Louis" by John S. Pughe in Puck, New York, July 4, 1900

The major news and satirical magazines of the day, Harper's Weekly, Puck and Judge, were united in their opposition to Mr. Bryan. Pughe depicts Bryan cheering on the strike by St. Louis streetcar workers, begun in May and lasting until September, in which clashes between strikers on one side and scabs and law enforcement on the other resulted in 14 deaths and hundreds of injuries.

"The Hardest Thing He Ever Had to Swallow" by Wm. A. Rogers in Harper's Weekly, New York, July 7, 1900

Democrats accused the McKinley administration of being in the thrall of oil, sugar, copper, steel, and railroad barons — the "trusts" — and Republicans in turn claimed that Tammany Hall, and by extension the Democratic Party, was beholden to the Ice Trust. 

The Ice Trust had nothing to do with Immigrant Capture and Expulsion; rather, this was about American Ice Company's monopoly of the supply of frozen water in New York City. What rival ice suppliers the company, founded in 1899 by Charles W. Morse, couldn't buy out, it drove out of business by smashing their deliveries, or getting Tammany Hall to revoke their dock privileges. 

After one year in business, monopoly achieved, American Ice Company doubled its prices to consumers, who relied on delivered ice for food refrigeration. Public outcry and media pressure forced the company to relent, and also exposed that Croker and other Tammany Hall figures had significant investments in American Ice.

"Trade Follows the Flag" by Eugene "Zim" Zimmerman in Judge, New York, July 7, 1900

Mocking the establishment Democrats falling in line behind Bryan, "Zim" Zimmerman skewers both Bryan's 1896 campaign platform of free silver and his 1900 campaign message against U.S. imperialism. The saying "Trade follows the flag" dates to 1870 or earlier, with the meaning that colonialism expands the colonizer's commercial opportunities.

"The Temptation" by Felix Mahony in Washington Evening Star, July 4, 1900

At last some political cartoons that acknowledge Independence Day! 

"An Old-Fashioned Fourth" by Tubman K. Hedrick in St. Louis Globe-Democrat, July 4, 1900

To Bryan's supposed chagrin, Hedrick in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat enthusiastically introduced the Republicans' vice-presidential nominee, New York Governor Theodore Roosevelt, nominated at the Republicans' convention the week before the Democrats'.

Republicans risked ebullient, colorful Roosevelt overshadowing staid, businesslike McKinley at the head of their ticket. (You might draw a more recent comparison with John McCain picking Sarah Palin as his running mate.) For much of U.S. history, the vice presidency was a post from which its occupants were seldom heard from again; it didn't quite work out according to plan this time.

"Kansas City's Favorite Son" by Taylor in Chicago Tribune, July 4, 1900

At this point, you might be asking whether there were any editorial cartoonists not attacking William Jennings Bryan. (Was Taylor caricaturing the Prairie Populist in this cartoon, or complaining about Kansas City's summer weather?)

The great Homer Davenport gained fame lambasting Bryan's Republican opponent, President William McKinley, and his financial backer from Ohio, Mark Hanna, so I went hunting for his work during the Democratic National Convention. I haven't been able to find any of the Hearst or Hearst-supplied newspapers that ran Davenport's cartoons that week, unfortunately.

No caption, by Robert Edgren in San Francisco Herald & Examiner, July 4, 1900

Instead, here's one by another Hearst cartoonist, drawing Mark Hanna in a  dollar-sign suitcoat, copying a Davenport trademark. 

An October 19, 1902 article in the Times-Democrat of New Orleans quoting visiting New York Herald cartoonist J.C. Fireman identified Edgren as a New York Journal cartoonist "in the same class as Davenport. He also adopts the sledgehammer style, and, being the champion hammer thrower of the world, it comes natural to him to 'knock' in his cartoons."

"Willie and His Papa" by Frederick Burr Opper in New York Journal, ca. July 4, 1900

Hearst cartoonist Frederick Opper was more of a jester than hammer thrower, but no less partisan. Instead of the dollar sign suitcoat, Opper here put Hanna in a dress, as wife of McKinley's Papa, "The Trusts." I presume that the water pail President McKinley has to carry in the cartoon is a reference to his campaign slogan of "the full dinner pail."

"A Man After My Own Heart" by May in Times-Democrat, New Orleans, July 4, 1900

I've got one cartoon specifically in support of William Jennings Bryan, and I'm afraid that I haven't been able to positively identify the cartoonist. May (certainly not Ole May, unlikely Thomas May) slapped a photograph into his cartoon of the Man After Uncle Sam's Own Heart rather than attempting to caricature him. But at least he acknowledged the holiday.

"Darned If I Can Have Any Fun on Fourth of July with These Things On" by E.T. Richards in Life, New York, July 5, 1900

Picturing the United States' new identity as a colonial power, E.T. Richards fit Uncle Sam in a crown and ermine robes, accompanied by a distressed Columbia and a mortified American eagle. Given the present regime's goose-stepping into fascist autocracy, I know how they feel.

In the background, I presume that is President McKinley dressed like Napoleon while his companion lights firecrackers tied to the dog Filipino's tail — a cruel and apparently common Independence Day pastime among nasty fin de siècle boys.

"Hurrah for the 4th" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Call, July 4, 1900

That's more than enough politics for today, so let's wrap things up with an ode to the holiday by San Francisco's Gustavo Bronstrup. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

America! It was nice while it lasted.

Meet the Dingbats

Last Saturday's post looked back on my abortive attempt to add a little character in my editorial cartoons giving postscriptive commentary on the topic of the day. Although I didn't keep it up, such characters are a longstanding tradition that dates back at least to the marginalia in medieval manuscripts, if not to paintings on cave walls.

In editorial cartooning, they're called dingbats, after the typesetters' term for non-alphanumeric characters used for everything from bullet points to paragraph dividers to space filler.

The best known of these in the present day was Puck, the little penguin Pat Oliphant drew at the bottom of his editorial cartoons from his early days Down Under with the Adelaide Advertiser until his retirement in 2015.

"Here I Am, the Last Livin' Person in Ireland..." by Pat Oliphant in Denver Post, ca. Feb. 18, 1973

Puck came into being after a colleague at the Adelaide Advertiser brought a penguin in a paper sack to the newspaper office. The 20-something Oliphant, whose political leanings were well to the left of his editors and the publisher at the Advertiser, began adding Puck to his cartoons as a way of sneaking his true opinions past those editors. By the time they caught onto this device, Puck's popularity with readers ensured that the penguin would continue whether the editors liked it or not.

"Now Is the Time to Save Gas" by Fred Seibel in Richmond Times Dispatch, Feb. 18, 1943

I also mentioned Fred O. Seibel and his crow last week. The crow also had a name, but sources disagree whether it is Moses or Jim. Since I have not been able to track down an origin story for him, I'll leave both names here with the caveat that I found him named Jim in a contemporary source, Moses in an article written long after Seibel had died.

"Alas Poor Yorick" by Fred Seibel in Richmond Times Dispatch, Feb. 18, 1933

Getting his start in upstate New York in 1908, Seibel was the editorial cartoonist at the Richmond (Virginia) Times Dispatch 1926 to 1968. Representing oneself with a crow named Jim would hardly raise an eyebrow at the start of his career; by 1968, and certainly by 2021 when the above-linked article was written, there was nothing quaint or cute about "Jim Crow."

"No Trespassing" by Bob Satterfield for Satterfield Cartoon Service, ca. November, 1914

Bill Rowell might have confused Seibel's crow with Bob Satterfield's bear, whose name was Moses according to Cartoons Magazine. 

The bear's name might also have been Bizzy, however. Satterfield also drew comic strips, including one starting in 1903 starring a bear named Bizzy. A typical episode of the strip, titled "Oh, Thunder," consisted of four square panels showing the bear and perhaps another cartoon animal with a four-line poem. It ran until at least 1933.

Sat's Bear (yet another of its names) was inspired by the popular tale about Teddy Roosevelt declining to kill a bear cub brought to him to shoot at. The incident inspired a famous cartoon by Clifford Berryman, and the more enduring teddy bear dolls. Berryman's bear reappeared once in a while, whereas Satterfield's bruin was a daily constant.

"Advice from One Who Knows" by Bob Satterfield in Detroit Times, ca. July, 1916

 

In 1914, another cartoonist we've featured here from time to time, John Baer, offered Satterfield $1,000 for the rights to use the bear in his cartoons. Satterfield turned down the offer, writing, “He has become an indispensable and highly honored member of our firm, and I assure you that his place could not be successfully filled by anybody else.”

"When Doctors Disagree" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, Dec. 27, 1898

If you've been following my blog long enough, you are familiar with the work of Minneapolis Tribune cartoonist Rowland C. Bowman, and his little dog. 

When Bowman died in 1903 at the age of 32, the Tribune article eulogizing him explained that the dog had originally appeared as one of many characters in a Bowman cartoon celebrating a Minneapolis baseball team winning a pennant. Something about the dog appealed to readers, so Bowman kept bringing it back again and again.

"Castro Thinks the Venezuelan Trouble Is a Fuse" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, Feb. 5, 1903

The dog never had a name as far as I've been able to ascertain, and never spoke a word of dialogue. Occasionally, he would be hidden in the cartoon, peering out from behind a fence for instance, resulting in letters to the editor from readers who couldn't find him, or were proud of themselves that they could.

"Willie Bryan Starts in Early" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, Feb. 18, 1903

A dingbat we met just last month was William K. Patrick's wise-quacking duck.

Patrick's duck originated in the New Orleans Times-Democrat, and when the Times-Democrat merged with the New Orleans Daily Picayune in 1914, the duck took over as the dingbat in charge of reporting the weather. This put the Picayune's weatherfrog out of work after 20 years of faithful service to the Big Easy.

"Meanwhile, the Value of the Eggs" by William K. Patrick in Fort Worth Star Telegram, Feb. 1, 1923

After Patrick left New Orleans for Fort Worth, taking his duck with him, New Orleanians were left with no weathercritter telling them whether to bring an umbrella to work. That is, until 1952, when Times-Picayune editors enlisted Walt Kelly's Pogo to take the job.

The paper's readers, however, would have none of the out-of-state Okeefenokian marsupial, and voted to give the job back to the old frog, who continues his frognostications to this very day.

"What Does His Birthday Mean to You" by Wm. K. Patrick in Fort Worth Star Telegram, Feb. 22, 1923

All of which is a round-about way of telling you that I don't have any interesting tidbits to pass along about the duck itself, save that a whimsical 1918 article in Cartoons Magazine cast Patrick's duck as the colonel in charge of a convocation of cartoon dingbats assembled to pledge their support to the war effort.

in Cartoons Magazine, Chicago, August, 1918

Alas, none of us are including those beloved dingbats in our editorial cartoons any more. (Unless you count Stan Kelly.)

Perhaps that what's ailing our profession these days...

✍

Last Christmas

Rather than resurrect yuletide editorial cartoons from 1922 today, I thought I'd reach back 20 years further for the Christmas cartoons that would be Minneapolis Tribune cartoonist R.C. Bowman's last for the holiday.

Of course, Bowman couldn't have known it would be his last Christmas. His death the following June at age 32 would be an accident; he would be overcome by gas in his home.

Bowman's Christmas Eve cartoon concerns the chief foreign affairs news of the day. Seeking to force the Venezuelan government of Cipriano Castro to repay debts incurred prior to his country's 1892 civil war, Germany and Great Britain (joined by Italy) placed a naval blockade against Venezuela. Castro responded by arresting 200 German and British citizens in Caracas. Seeking to avoid having the U.S. navy come to Venezuela's defense, Britain invited the U.S. to arbitrate the dispute.

Bowman's Christmas Day cartoon refers to Rudyard Kipling's poetic screed against Great Britain allying its interests with Germany, "The Rowers," published in London Times Dec. 22. The actual poem is longer than I care to repeat here, but these stanzas show that Bowman's paraphrase didn't exaggerate its sentiment much:

"Our dead they mocked are scarcely cold,
  Our wounds are bleeding yet—
And you tell us now that our strength is sold
 To help them press for a debt!

"'Neath all the flags of all mankind
 That use upon the seas,
Was there no other fleet to find
 That you strike bands with these?"

🎄

Since Bowman's Christmas Day cartoon wasn't particularly Christmasy, let's check over at the Minneapolis Journal, where Charles "Bart" Bartholomew was taking a more festive approach to the holiday.

"An Old Fashioned Christmas" by Charles "Bart" Bartholomew in Minneapolis Journal, Dec. 24, 1902

Alert readers may recall that the Wright brothers had not yet flown their air-ship at Kitty Hawk as of Christmas Eve, 1902. Lighter-than-air balloons had been in use for half a century, however, and by this time had incorporated engines and steering mechanisms (and been involved in a fatal aeronautic accident). 

Like air-ships, automobiles were principally a plaything of the rich and indolent, although they were beginning to catch on with the general public. You'll find the more common modes of transportation referenced in Bartholomew's cartoon for Christmas Day:

"Papa's Christmas" by Charles "Bart" Bartholomew in Minneapolis Journal, Dec. 25, 1902

A third daily newspaper in town, the Daily Times, ran this front page cartoon beneath an editorial promising to publish "the names and addresses of any suffering poor in Minneapolis and St. Paul whose destitution is unknown to the general public."

"The Poor Ye Have Always with You," unsigned, in Minneapolis Daily Times, Dec. 24, 1902

By the way, I don't know what was meant by the "Don't Let This Happen to You" cut line. Surely the Daily Times wasn't advising its readers to pull the shades.

Anyway, the Daily Times, true to its word, printed the names and addresses of some two dozen destitute Minneapolitans (plus one from Minnetonka) "described by acquaintances or observers as needful of aid on this Christmas Day, it having been impossible to separately investigate the accuracy of the description in each case." I can't say how those people reacted to having their situation above the fold on page one, but the Times itself noted that only 5% of the total number of reports to them of destitution (in addition to those 25 there were others to whom the Times brought food and fuel) came from the destitute persons themselves.

"What Has He in the Pouch" by P.J. Carter in Minneapolis Daily Times,  December 25, 1902

P.J. Carter's Christmas Day cartoon for the Times again references the situation in Venezuela, while still keeping a Christmasy theme to his commentary. Carter favored pen and ink for his editorial cartoons, so I'm not prepared to conclude that the previous day's cartoon was his work.

"Sad News for the Trusts" by Tom Thurlby in St. Paul Globe, Dec. 24, 1902

Across the river in St. Paul, I had expected to find more cartoons by Frank Wing. Instead, I found these by a Tom Thurlby and O.C. Holt in the St. Paul Globe. Thurlby's Christmas Eve cartoon jumps past the present holiday to suggest to Mr. Consumer some new year's resolutions.

"When Yet a Farmer Boy" by O.C. Holt in St. Paul Globe, December 24, 1902

By the way, all four newspapers in today's post published on Christmas Day, 1902, a Thursday, although the December 25 Globe didn't happen to have any cartoons in it.

But there were two cartoons in the Christmas Eve edition; this poem and illustration hailing the true bringers of Christmas presents was on an inside page. You know it's hard work when you're sweating like that outdoors in St. Paul, Minnesota, on December the twenty-fourth.

At least someone was kind enough to gift the man a toy whatever-that-critter-is beneath his sack of goodies.

And with that, I wish you a merry little Christmas, eighth night of Hanukkah, Kwanzaa Eve, and any other holiday of your choice. 

Qapla'!

Epitaph for R. C. Bowman

I wrapped up my post the other day about this year's AAEC convention by mentioning that I used the occasion to donate a 121-year-old book of editorial cartoons to the Billy Ireland Cartoon Library and Museum.

The cover of R.C. Bowman's book

Okay, it's not on the same level as Monte Wolverton donating a busload of his father's cartoon work to the BICL&M, but my Dad isn't a cartoonist. Although he was in a Vaughn Shoemaker cartoon once and has the original hanging in his office.

Outside of my own blog posts about the book, there isn't much on line about turn-of-the-century Minneapolis Tribune editorial cartoonist Rowland C. Bowman. Part of the reason for that is that he died quite young, overpowered by gas fumes at his home.

Report in Culver (IN) Citizen, June 4, 1903

Which is not to say that Bowman was either obscure or quickly forgotten. The Strand magazine was very impressed with him (and with Minneapolis Journal cartoonist Charles "Bart" Bartholomew) in a 1902 article about U.S. editorial cartoonists. And Syd Hoff included a pair of Bowman cartoons in his 1976 tome Editorial and Political Cartooning: From Earliest Times to the Present With Over 700 Examples from the Works of the World's Greatest Cartoonists.

"Royal Leap Frog" by R.C. Bowman in Minneapolis Tribune, May 30, 1903

Bowman's last editorial cartoon in the Minneapolis Tribune appeared on Saturday, May 30, 1903. Starting on Sunday, May 31, the Tribune began running cartoons by C.F. Naughton in Bowman's front-page spot.

"And When They Grow Up, They Would Not Put Away Childish Things" by C.F. Naughton in Minneapolis Tribune, May 31, 1903

Long-time followers of these Saturday history posts may remember that Naughton was editorial cartoonist at the Duluth Evening Herald in the 19-teens.

If any readers of the Minneapolis Tribune spotted that Bowman had been replaced at the bottom of Page One, they found the explanation on the bottom of Page Eight. I'll be charitable and attribute the Tribune's misspelling his name to the news room's collective grief.

in Minneapolis Tribune, May 31, 1903

The remainder of today's post is the text verbatim of the Minneapolis Tribune article reporting Bowman's death. The Strand piece, which it quotes extensively, mentions cartoons accompanying it. The cartoons interspersed with my transcription of the Tribune's report are from Bowman's 1901 book, not the 1902 Strand article.

"Don't You Want to Buy a Dog"

Roland [sic] C. Bowman, aged 32, cartoonist at The Minneapolis Tribune, poet, author, and entertainer, died yesterday at his home, 2016 James avenue south.

Mr. Bowman's death was sudden, and comes as a terrible shock and profound sorrow to his wife and little ones, his associates in newspaper, art, and literary work, his hosts of personal friends, and to the thousands of men, women, and children all over the country who did not know the man, but loved and respected him for the smiles he had brought into their workaday lives, and the lessons he had taught.

The influence for good of a man like R.C. Bowman is incalculable, and no one knows how many lives will miss the genial and rational pleasure and help derived from his clever, highminded, yet simple and kindly picture stories.

OVERCOME BY GAS

Mr. Bowman was found overcome by gas in his study at 2 o'clock Thursday afternoon by a relative. He was totally unconscious, and finding it impossible to arouse him, a physician was instantly called. In a short time two physicians and a trained nurse were working over him trying to bring him back to life.

Every effort was in vain. No remedy, device, or method known to the science of medicine was omitted in the case, and at times it seemed that it was assuming a hopeful aspect. But the symptoms of recovery were brief and feeble, and the general trend of the case was downward, until, yesterday afternoon, Mr. Bowman died without ever having regained full consciousness or spoken a single word.

He is survived by a widow and two beautiful babies, who were his delight and inspiration, and by a widowed mother and one sister who live in Benton Harbor, Mich., where his body will be taken for burial. Funeral services will be held at his late home in this city, of which an announcement will be made later.

"Getting Scorched"

About six months ago, Mr. Bowman's health broke down slightly under the strain of his work, and since that time he had done his drawing in the restful seclusion of his own home. He had planned for the coming summer an extensive trip through Europe, taken by the advice of his friends for the benefit of his health.

WAS A MICHIGAN BOY

Roland C. Bowman was born in St. Joe, Mich. December 29, 1870. That city and Benton Harbor are divided only by a narrow river, and in the two he spent his boyhood and young manhood, and gathered unconsciously the boyish experiences which were later to be wrought by his genius into sources of mingled smiles and tears to those who knew his work. His memories of school, of work, and of play were colors which he took frequently from the palette of his mind to tint the tender, playful verses and the cartoons of child-life, which he loved most to create.

His marked talent for making pictures which told a humorous or forceful story appeared early in life, and his first work in newspaper illustration was done on a small newspaper in St. Joe. At the age of 19 he contributed illustrations and a few cartoons to the Arkansas Traveler.

"Not Worth Landing"

He never attended an art school, was entirely self-taught, and in a large measure self-developed. From St. Joe he went to Grand Rapids, Mich., where he worked for a time on the staff of the Herald, after which he started for the West.

After a brief sojourn in La Crosse, Wis., where he made chalk plates for a local paper, he came to Minneapolis, and secured a position with the Times, where he did general art work, illustrating, sketching, etc. Nearly seven years ago, after working with the Times six months, he became the cartoonist of the Tribune. His subsequent advance was rapid, but was the well deserved fruit of his genius and tireless industry.

"Rah! Rah! Rah"

He created the irresistible child characters Little Alf and Susan Mary, whose adventures with their Grandpa Tabor in the Sunday Tribune delighted and entertained thousands of children of all ages through the Northwest.

THE FAMOUS DOG

Another creation of Mr. Bowman's, which well illustrated his power of wielding little things, and of touching all he did with a captivating originality, was the famous "dog," which figured in all his cartoon work.

This little animal, which became the household pet of the children of the Northwest, first appeared in a cartoon several years ago, showing the triumphant return to Minneapolis of the baseball team bearing the pennant. Dancing and shouting around the coach which bore the triumphant team, were many quaint and ridiculous figures, among which was the dog. The favorable comments made upon the little canine led to its being introduced again, and still again, until finally Mr. Bowman adopted the quaint plan of putting it into all of his daily cartoons. Occasionally, he would hide the little fellow in a corner, or behind a tree or rock, and then his mail would be full of letters asking where the dog was, or announcing someone's success or failure in discovering it.

"The Run-Away Bill"

"FRECKLES AND TAN"

Of Mr. Bowman's publications the best known is "Freckles and Tan," a collection of clever verses, full of the true spirit of happy simple childhood, which Mr. Bowman possessed in greater measure than many children themselves; and replete with the every day, homely human touches which distinguished and beautified his drawings. Several editions of the little book were issued, and it enjoyed a marked vogue and flattering success.

HIS CHALK TALKS

Mr. Bowman's chalk talks, or illustrated lectures, which have been for several years a most popular entertainment in the Twin Cities and the Northwest, are difficult to describe adequately. Their great charm, so evident to their hearers, is illusive as a butterfly to catch and analyze. Most prominent, however, among their many delightful qualities, and the one, perhaps, to which their peculiar delight was due, is again the human note which sounded so clearly and sweetly through all his work. As he drew his odd, mischievous youngsters, and told of their pranks and plays, their troubles and sorrows, he was one with the little heroes and heroines of his story, and in perfect sympathy also with those who heard him.

"Whoa, Boy"

THE STRAND ARTICLE

His cartoons were widely copied, newspapers the country over making use of them, and reviews and magazines delighting to reproduce them. In a series of articles written for The Strand by Arthur Lord on "American Cartoonists and Their Work," Mr. Bowman's work is analyzed as follows in the issue for October, 1902:

"Mr. R.C. Bowman, of The Minneapolis Tribune, belongs to the ever-spreading good-natured school. This artist, who began at the age of 19 on the Arkansas Traveler, has devoted about twelve years to the art of caricature, and he possesses theories about his work which many a less-known man might take to heart, with accruing advantage to himself and the public. Bowman believes that a cartoon can be to the point without being malicious, and that it is not necessary to make ogres of men in order to show that you differ with them politically. A running glance at his various cartoons shows that Mr. Bowman has pronounced ideas of right and wrong, and that he takes his stand conscientiously on all matters of social and political import, but you will hunt in vain for any trace of partisan spleen. During the five years that he has been with the Tribune his output has been as enormous as its scope has been varied, and the friendships he has made have been not only among those of his own party, but also among his political foes. The man who laughs most heartily at a cartoon when that cartoon is good-humored is very often the subject of the cartoon himself. Where Davenport, in short, would make an enemy, Bowman would make a friend, so great is the difference in the styles of the two men.

"Of Course It's Heavy. But Think of the Glory"

"Bowman is a careful student of politics, and his picture editorials always present a strong argument. He possesses a rare originality, and spontaneous humor and that his drawings are well thought out is proved by their simplicity in detail. Bowman is a humorist and not a satirist, and has attained his success through adherence to well-defined principles of directness, simplicity and gentleness. The Tribune reader opens his paper with the knowledge that he is not going to squirm.

"Look, by the way, at Bowman's cartoons, and see if you can find the dog. The Bowman dog has become famous. This remarkable little canine which the cartoonist introduces into nearly all of his work is full of expression and the keynote of the story [is] often found in the antics of the pup. If he is scared, in common with the elephant and the donkey, at the advent of the Third Party, you will find him running into the distance with marvelous alacrity. He rests, with wonder-eyed demureness, beside Carnegie and Morgan, while John Bull tacks down his island, and when the battleship Kentucky arrives off the coast of Turkey, he is — well, find him for yourself. If the small boys of Minneapolis, as is said, may be found chalking Bowman's dog on sidewalks and fences, it is proof of the popularity of the cartoonist, which needs no further to be proved.

"The Meanderings of Willie and Little Steve" (from a series)

"Bowman has a great fondness for children, and we believe that it is his highest ambition to become a successful writer of child's verse. He has already published one volume which contains verse of this sort that may reasonably be compared with the late Eugene Field. He is also a "chalk talker" and indulges now and then in a funny lecture, which he illustrates with his own hand. In our photograph you may [see in] him an able bodied, happy and good natured gentleman, standing by the side of his blackboard as if in lecture pose, and from the appearance of the man and examples of his work we may easily understand the quality of the reputation made by him throughout the great and enterprising West."

"It Turns Out to Be a Hornet's Nest"

The following verses from "Freckles and Tan," page 12, is a good illustration of Mr. Bowman's child poems.

THE ODE TO THE HAIR BRUSH

"Mandy, Pass Up Here and Let Me Give You Another Slice of the Paramount Issue"