Foster M. Follett’s Private Conscience is an unexpected treat. The pun is a bit of a groaner–this soldier really is a person’s private conscience–but easily forgiven once you take a second or two to absorb the beautiful illustrations. I completely adore the look of our hero, like a child’s toy soldier come to life. He’s just different enough from the other characters to suggest his otherworldly nature, but not so much that the effect is intrusive. The strip follows a simple formula: 1) Private Conscience arrives on the scene to talk someone out of doing something he/she will regret, 2) that person ignores our hero’s words of wisdom, sometimes even assaulting him in the process, 3) the situation turns sour, proving our hero was right all along, and 4) Private Conscience is left to lament that he did his utmost to avert the situation as our victim realizes his/her folly. Keep in mind there are variations, such as the time a thief mistakes our hero for a “fancy cop” and makes haste from the scene of the crime only to take out his frustration on Private Conscience later. Or when a group of children armed with snowballs show our soldier what they think of his advice. I’m always happy to see the lines blur, to see the artist drawn into the art. And, of course, we’re always suckers here at Barnacle Press for a gag involving our dear Chicago.

I’m now on the lookout for more of Follett’s material, so far I’ve snagged only one Sunday outing of his Tidy Teddy series. Lambiek has a color example of Teddy plus another of Skeezicks, not to mention biographical info, well worth a click if you’ve enjoyed what you’ve seen so far.

We are always happy to come across lesser known efforts from well known creators, and while Charles H. Wellington may not exactly be a household name, he nevertheless held a spot on the comics page for several decades with various iterations of his strip Pa’s Son-in-Law. Today we’re looking at his short lived title from 1909, The Gimlet Club. While it may sound like an honorary society, induction into the Gimlet Club featured in Wellington’s strip is anything but an honor. Membership is by invitation only, reserved for those special bores and blowhards one might see practicing their craft on unsuspecting folks about town. An invite seems like just deserts for some, such as this gentleman who just can’t take a hint, but perhaps not punishment enough for others, such as the creepy lady looking for a kiss in this episode. In general the theme of the strip seems a bit too constrictive and perhaps that is why the club didn’t stick around for too long.

Continuing our march through the Chicago Tribune comic supplement, we have a couple of new strips and updates to several others. First, we have the Million Dollar Kid, by Tribune stalwart “Taylor,” following the frolics of a moneyed young man as he inspires envy in his rivals. Also new is Home Sweet Home, a bog standard domestic comedy, with the slightest touch of acidity. Also added are new strips for Buster Brown, Clare Briggs, Danny Dreamer, Hans Horina (who must have missed his boat back to Germany; months after the other Germans had packed up and headed for greener pastures, Hans is still grinding out comics for the Trib…), and the variety section.

New strips of old favorites, this morning. We’ve added to the archives of Clare Briggs, Buster Brown, Briggs’ Danny Dreamer, more from Hans Horina, It Happens Every Day, and some odds and ends.

Included among these odds and ends is a remarkable strip, unsigned, called The Next Morning at the Central Office. I was taken aback when I first saw it, for it looks very much like the work of Chris Ware, if cruder in rendering. The technique of using a static scene, changing very little from panel to panel, which is a hallmark of Mr. Ware’s work, didn’t occur much in 1907! The way the panel design makes strong use of negative space and the prosaic subject matter are also very Warian traits.

Other strips worth your attention are the handsomely illustrated story King Arthur’s Court in California, a puzzle with a Charles Guiteau theme, and the wonderfully titled Ben Hustle Buys a Hat. Also check out the Laugh and the World Laughs With You pages; they’re chock full of puzzles, comics, poems, and stories. Good stuff.

Just a quick note to mark the posting of a couple of features. Viola and Vivian is a gag strip revolving around the titular sisters, a female analog to Mutt and Jeff. The subjects of Uncle Remus’ Stories will be familiar to you all, I imagine. Br’ers Bear, Cat, and Rabbit are in attendance in these illustrated panels, as narrated by America’s favorite slave storyteller. Yikes! The illustrations are gorgeous, though, and if you can get past the stories’ provenance, there’s some good dialect folk tales in there.

It must have been with some trepidation that newspaper editors witnessed the invasion of their domains by advancing hordes of cartoonists. It couldn’t be denied that circulations were higher, but comic strips were mostly crude and vulgar, appealing to a broad and low audience that the fourth estate elite disdained and sought to elevate. As a tonic to this creeping gaucherie, the editors of the Chicago Tribune in 1906 decided to axe practically all of the features it had been running and replace them with what they considered to be more genteel and sophisticated fare.

The source for these sophisticated comics? Why, that renowned comedy powerhouse: the Kaiser’s Germany. German magazine cartoonists were considered to be the finest purveyors of a least fine art, and if the masses clamored for funnies, the Tribune was determined to give them a dose of culture whether they wanted it or not.

The German cartoonists were undoubtedly fine, as is evinced by today’s edition to the Comic Supplement, but they didn’t catch the imagination of the public the way that it was hoped they would. With the exception of Lyonel Feininger’s standout strips, the Kin-Der-Kids and Wee Willie Winkie’s World, the American audience paid little attention to the “high-tone” comics, and wished for the return of the home-grown comics, vulgar and crude as they may have been. The lesson, clearly, is never to underestimate the American public’s taste for the Low. If capital-A Art is to be found in the funnies, it must arise organically, under the cover of night.

All of this said, there was some fine cartooning produced by the German artists. Today’s feature showcases the works of Hans Horina, the most prolific of the Tribune’s Teutons. Horina produced several features that were run weekly; on many weeks, half of the comic section was made up of Horina’s cartoons. Unlike the other German cartoonists (again to except Feininger), Horina worked with running characters, including the Absentminded Aunt, Hungry Tommy, and the Rhino Family. The balance of his work focused on animal/jungle themes, almost all presented in pantomime, as would befit the cartoonist’s continental origins.

We’ll be featuring more of the German artists’ work in coming weeks, but for now, be sure to enjoy the works of Hans Horina. Maybe the Tribune editors were on to something, and you’ll wind up smarter and more refined. I wouldn’t count on it, but you never know.

Fred Nankivel’s Uncle Mun details the adventures of a fantastically mustachioed fellow with an uncanny knack for outlandish feats of everyday heroism. When the cow kicks the milk bucket in the air, Uncle Mun has his niece fetch another bucket so he can catch the milk as it falls; escaping from a bear finds him skiing on the slats of a barrel, and then creating a safe haven from fallen icicles. In a cheery, eerie Christmas episode, the good uncle dresses as Santa and escapes being stabbed to death by a burglar in one of the most stark depictions of violence I’ve seen in a gag strip; while the inflated girth of the Santa suit gave him protection, the panel where the villain plunges a dagger deep into the chest of Santa gives one pause (as does the stereotyped depiction of the black maid).

After reading these strips and becoming familiar with Mun’s preternatural ability to save the day, I’m reminded of the titular clown from Monkey Shines of Marseleen. If Hugo Hercules is a proto-Superman, then surely Mun and Marseleen could be contenders for Batman’s slot, using their cleverness and agility to save the day in lieu of brute strength. Thinking of the three together puts me of a mind to consider the possibilities of a super-team comprised of early comics prodigies. Imagine the adventures that Hugo, Mun, and Marseleen could enjoy, along with other fantastic characters like Billy Bounce, the Wish Twins, and the Woo-Woo Bird. Everett True could join in as well; he lacks supernatural abilities but possesses the spirit of a vigilante and the willingness to lay his fists behind his words. The mind truly reels to consider the heroics that would be performed by this Platinum Age Legion of Superheroes!

STWALLSKULL has been running a lot of Swinnerton lately, and a recent post featuring Dear Little Katy reminded me that I had a few of them sitting around collecting virtual dust. I can’t improve on his description of Katy as Little Jimmy in drag, you’ll just have to see for yourself (make sure to check out the exciting crossover strip featuring the Katy and Jimmy together in one super adventure). That’s not all, we have bedtime shenanigans, picnic hi-jinx, all kinds of fun…plus visits from Sweet Willie Jones! And if that is still not enough to tickle your funny bone, we have some new strips uploaded in the Little Jimmy archive as well.  Get going, there are Swinnerton strips to be read!

The strips we’re now adding to the Comic Supplement are smaller than we normally like, and there are many in very poor condition. But on the other hand, this is Cliff Sterrett’s truly classic strip, Polly and Her Pals. We’ve had them put aside for a while, but they’re not doing anyone any good that way. If we ever get better, larger copies of this strip, we’ll share them with you. This is the kind of feature that deserves to be read by as many people as possible.

Never all that popular during its newspaper run, it nevertheless remained a staple of the comics page for almost fifty years as a darling strip of discerning readers. Readers like you, I would imagine. I think you’ll enjoy these strips, despite their less-than-perfect presentation.

The Hallroom Boys is centered around the schemes of Percy and Ferd Hallroom, ne’er-do-swells with fancy airs but no visible means of support. They’re ardent in their pursuit of the appropriately named Miss Millionbucks, in a way that would make them villains in other, more morally upright, strips.

The symbolism of Miss Millionbucks’ name is painfully apparent, but the boys’ name refers to their position as young men who would sit in the hallroom at the foot of the stairs, waiting for an audience with a young lady. They have good manners but bad prospects, and presumably bad chances at winning the hand of a bride of means. But anything is possible, and our boys are nothing if not persistent, and likely nothing else but persistent! The meaning of the sisters Spondoolix’s name remains a mystery to me.

Harold A. MacGill created the Hallroom Boys in 1906, and it ran until 1923, changing the name along the way to Percy and Ferdy. The characters had some kind of broad appeal, as there was at least one film short made with the characters.

Also added to the library: Hank and Knobs, a poor man’s Mutt and Jeff with a heaping tablespoonful of racism. It has its moments of comedy, but there are some distinctly retrograde attitudes at play. Hey, if it’s not very good, at least we’ve got a lot of them!