In yesterday's Signature Illustration Art sale at Heritage Auctions, a Charles Addams original cartoon from 1937 was one of four works offered from the Irvin Greif Collection of New Yorker Art. Fourteen days earlier, it had already achieved an online opening bid of $10,000. The official estimate was $20,000 and up. How high would it go?
"She shows up every Halloween" Charles Addams Original art The New Yorker, October 30, 1937, p. 25
Not surprisingly, the Halloween theme seems tailor-made for Addams. The composition demonstrates a competent two-point perspective. It reads from left to right; all the figures look at the witch, directing our eyes across the cartoon. The chefs wear white while darker clothing first highlights the speaker and his coworker, then the witch and her cauldron.
"She shows up every Halloween" Charles Addams Original framed art The New Yorker, October 30, 1937, p. 25
Verso
Charles Addams Heritage Auctions listing accessed October 20, 2025
The auction house's description attempts to cast this witch as an "archetype" for Granny Frump of the Addams Family. I think that's a stretch—she's just a witch.
Two weeks have passed and now the bidding is over:
Here's how the cartoon first appeared in the pages of New Yorker for Halloween 1937.
"She shows up every Halloween" Charles Addams The New Yorker, October 30, 1937, p. 25
"She shows up every Halloween" Charles Addams Original art The New Yorker, October 30, 1937, p. 25
The Gardner Rea cartoon on the left is in a clean, linear style with an emphasis on contours. It contrasts nicely with the deep tones of the Addams cartoon on the facing page.
"You may inform your readers, gentlemen, that despite my sweepstakes winnings I shall continue in my present occupation." Gardner Rea The New Yorker, October 30, 1937, p. 24
Dick Buchanan just dropped off an old Christmas cartoon by Gardner Rea. It was printed in two colors, black and green, in the December 23, 1939 issue of Collier's. Consumption was conspicuous, apparently, even during the Great Depression.
"Just the same, I'd feel better if I saw somebody." Gardner Rea Collier's, December 23, 1939
Note: My thanks to Dick Buchanan for dipping into his amazing Cartoon Clip Files just for us. This is Dick's 63rd contribution to Attempted Bloggery, a new world record I'm sure the Guinness people will soon be noting. Dick also contributes to Mike Lynch Cartoons. His latest effort there is a post related to this one entitled "From the Dick Buchanan Files: More Wiggly Rea Cartoons 1938-1953." Be sure not to miss it. Wiggly, by the way, referred to the erratic quality of Rea's line.
Argosy Book Store of New York City has acquired a 1959 New Yorker rough by Charles Addams. It is hard to imagine another single panel cartoonist whose preliminary work would be priced at $4,000. To the shop's credit, the issue of the magazine in which the finished cartoon appears is fully cited.
Mrs. Gilson's Day Nursery School
Charles Addams
Preliminary art
The New Yorker, November 21, 1959, p. 42
The full sheet has some paper losses at the lower left and top center.
Mrs. Gilson's Day Nursery School
Charles Addams
Preliminary art
The New Yorker, November 21, 1959, p. 42
Charles Addams's corrections to the man observing the school are evident above his signature
The subject matter, it's safe to say, is one that would not be mined by the magazine today for humor. Addams gets away with it by only implying the presence of children, and by portraying Mrs. Gilson as matronly. The machine gun is a disciplinary prop; the school is a prison.
Detail of the man observing Mrs. Gilson at work
Verso
Charles Addams Argosy Book Store listing retrieved October 20, 2022
Addams's finished drawing with its masterful shading contrasts nicely on the magazine's page spread with the line work of cartoonist Gardner Rea. Rea's Thanksgiving turkeys are here referring to that year's crop of cranberries contaminated with pesticides. That historical episode has been largely forgotten.
The Great Cranberry Scare of 1959
February 4, 2023 Update: The Addams rough is no longer available (sold today, I believe).
Note: Today, of course, a gun gag set in a nursery school would be unthinkable. School mass shootings were not an issue in Addams's time. In recent years, the reality of schools and guns is handled very soberly in the magazine, often on the covers and, of course, in the editorial content. See, for example, the recent Cover Story: "Chris Ware's 'Lockdown.'"
In yesterday's post, we saw New Yorker cartoonists from the 1950s to the 1980s play with the definition of what it means to be a "good provider." A much earlier 1927 New Yorker drawing by cartoonist Gardner Rea (1894-1966) offers something quite different, concentrating on a man who, according to his wife's testimony in divorce court, no longer rates as a good husband or a good provider:
"A good 'usband 'e was to me, y'r Honor, an' a good provider till 'e came under th' inflooence of Beau Nash." Gardner Rea The New Yorker, June 25, 1927, page 26
Beau Nash (1674-1762) was a British dandy who had much to do with popularizing the spa town of Bath as a leading destination for the aristocracy. That his name should be familiar to Jazz Age New Yorker readers seems uncertain. Today it is the name of Beau Brummell (1778-1840) that is better remembered for his fashion sense. Yet a little research with the Google Books N-gram shows the late 1920s to be a time when Nash's name was ascendent and Brummell's was on the decline. The New Yorker's editors could well have been attuned to such things.
Rea's outlines are second to none and his rendering of the foppish husband is the best thing about this cartoon. But there are weaknesses here as well. Both the officer of the court and the judge appear to be speaking, but not the wife who is making the wordy complaint. It's as if the drawing had been made with a different speaker in mind. The people seated in the courtroom are downright distracting, as are the pen and paper on the floor. What purpose do they serve?
The heavy use of dialect in the caption also adds to the difficulty. It's admittedly a stretch, but could there be some wordplay going on here, an inside joke? Dropping so many of the h's allows for the words "till 'e," reminiscent of the surname of Eustace Tilley, The New Yorker's own resident dandy. The bottom line of the caption could thus be seen as "...Tilley come under th' inflooence of Beau Nash." It is too much to hope for.
All eyes are on dad in Gardner Rea'sLook magazine cartoon from the June 19, 1963 issue. For this father of four, Father's Day may simply be too much of a good thing. But can he really buy his way out of it? Rea uses solid black only for the billfold, to ensure our eyes go right to the central focus of the gag.
"How much would it be worth to you just to forget Father's Day this year?" Gardner Rea Look, June 18, 1963, page 92
Scan by Dick Buchanan
Note:My thanks to Dick Buchanan for getting all sentimental on us in anticipation of Father's Day. This post represents the twenty-sixth time Dick has contributed to Attempted Bloggery. The scan comes to us directly from the legendary Dick Buchanan Cartoon Clip Files. Dick contributes regularly to Mike Lynch Cartoons, most recently a post entitled "From the Dick Buchanan Files: Clyde Lamb Roughs 1946 - 65." It would be criminal to miss these!
Cartoonist Gardner Rea was a contributor to the New Yorker from its first issue in 1925. He contributed to many other publications as well. On eBay for some time, Gallery of History has been offering an original color cartoon of his that was published in Playboy in April of 1962. The gag is a deliberate variation on the "Waiter, there's a fly in my soup" brand of humor, only even less funny. In fact, the gag seems to be little more than a pretext for some cartoon nudity. The asking price is very much on the high side, although there is a Make Offer option. Don't forget to tip your waiter.
Gardner Rea,"Waiter—what is this G-string doing in my soup?!" Original art, Playboy, April 1962, page 95
Rea Irvin's street sweeper is not pleased to find that a pair of white butterflies are drawn to him. Irvin's working class cartoon figure is in many ways the opposite of his upscale dandy who deigns to regard a single butterfly through his monocle on the cover of the first issue. The street sweepers were called the White Wings because of their regulation white uniforms, but Irvin suggests another, even better reason for the appellation.
Rea Irvin The New Yorker, May 9, 1925
With Ralph Barton off the list of advisory editors, the first in the alphabetical listing is playwright Marc Connelly of the Algonquin Round Table. He is the subject of this issue's first "Talk" piece. Editor Harold Ross's friends from the Algonquin get a lot of press in his magazine. Meanwhile Eldon Kelley illustrates the Roman myth of Proserpine being abducted to the underworld by Pluto, although some classical scholars may dispute the historical details shown here. For added fun, try reading that license plate upside down.
"The Talk of the Town" Eldon Kelley,Proserpine
Reginald Marsh returns to the "Talk" section with a new spread on the subject of golf, "the other great Scotch invention." In the New Yorker of the Prohibition era, it's pretty certain the writer isn't referring to bagpipes.
Reginald Marsh,Elegant America Does Its Duty By the Other Great Scotch Invention.
This "Talk" piece on illustrator Charles Dana Gibson, creator of the Gibson girl, gives some idea of the type of astronomical earnings top illustrators commanded back in the Golden Age.
Couple about town:
In Herb Roth's cartoon, the padlocking of the City's speakeasies has an all-too-familiar domestic analogy.
Herb Roth,An Early Padlocking--Showing That This Woe Has Long Been Known to Gas Consumers
Island girl:
Fiction, or a reasonable facsimile, by Tip Bliss...
"That's New York"
"Their most acute problem was Mayor Hylan. Hylan didn't want to be Mayor. He wanted to be Music Master. He was devoted to his art and gave concerts in his own parks all over the city." Herb Roth illustrates Mayor Hylan conducting. Note the radio microphone, the very latest communication technology embraced even by Silent Cal in the White House.
Herb Roth "Story of Manhattankind."
Alfred Frueh demonstrates an ingenious contraption for circumventing the padlocking of speakeasies. Who needs Heath Robinson?
Alfred Frueh,A Crafty and Timely Device--The Turn-Table Club
"The small figure in the centre of the page is Miss Hayes, showing that even in those days there were flappers." In place of Ralph Barton, W. E. Hill has been providing many of the weekly theatre page illustrations, this one featuring the talented Helen Hayes.
"Great Moments front the Drama" W. E. Hill, "Caesar and Cleopatra" at the New Home of the Theatre Guild
"The Theatre" reviewer who last week became carried away with the cumbersome phrase this department, formally announces the welcome return of the editorial we.
Gardner Rea's cartoon about a vacationing White Wing--a New York City street sweeper--appears in this issue perhaps as a companion piece to Rea Irvin's cover. Note that the White Wing dresses in black on his vacation and does his littering from a hired cab.
Gardner Rea,The White Wing's Vacation
Who Were the "White Wings?"
The New-York Historical Society
"We have known George Luks intimately and we have made the discovery that his most sincere attachment is to orange juice in the morning and raw oysters all the rest of the day." Artist George Luks illustrates his own "Profile"--a first--and signs it with the name of boxer Gene Tunney.
"Profiles: The Illustrious George" Illustration by George Luks
Robert L. Gambone elucidates:
From Life on the Press: The Popular Art and Illustrations of George Benjamin Luks by Robert L. Gambone, Univ. Press of Mississippi, 2009.
"People heard of the Bronx River for the first time about ten years ago when somebody named a highway commission after it." This still rings true in 2015, with the Bronx River Parkway far better known than the Bronx River itself. E. B. White returns to the magazine, thank heaven, with "Defense of the Bronx River."
"Defense of the Bronx River"
An illustration on the "Music" page is one of the first to add elements of personality.
"Music"
Rockewell Kent on the "Arts" page:
Rockwell Kent
Mayor Hylan deals with a growing murder rate. Prohibitionists react with alarm to a news item about using champagne to christen an airplane. Will Rogers reports on Calvin Coolidge's sense of humor. Motorcycles are banned at Yale. Surgeons are urged to sign their patients. (In 2015, they finally do.) Howard Brubaker's "Of All Things" is truly all over the place, but the punch lines, well, they really aren't so very amusing.
"Of All Things" by Howard Brubaker
Straphangers by Eldon Kelley:
Eldon Kelley
"Broadway has had and still has its negro cabarets, patronized by white people, but the place to see the real colored shows unhampered by white management or tastes is in the center of the negro district of Harlem." Lest one mistake a minstrel show for the real deal...
"When Nights Are Bold" Illustrations at Smalls, left, and of dancer Bobbie, right, by Charles Baskerville
British cartoonist Lawson Wood stops by the New Yorker for his one and only appearance in the magazine.
Lawson Wood, "Look here, I'm going to give you a fiver, and you fellersh musht fight it out among yourselves."
A Parisian bouquiniste:
Eldon Kelley
The New Yorker engages in some lowbrow play on the word colored. One Hundred and Thirty-Fifth Street would describe the neighborhood known as Harlem.
"The Optimist" shows up for its twelfth consecutive issue. Bring it on! Plus, some clear thinking from the military:
The New Yorker's subscription ads continue to provide some of the most humorous copy in the magazine.
Humorist Corey Ford writes about the art of the blotter:
"Blotters: An Absorbing Medium" by Corey Ford
Last week the magazine reviewed Shaw's "Caesar and Cleopatra" and stated, "One--this department, to be exact--is conscious of being in the presence neither of a great play nor of a particularly high-grade production." This week, in the capsule review on the "Goings On" page, it is a "masterpiece." This shows a lack of editorial consistency; the New Yorker is speaking with too many voices. The review of "They Knew What They Wanted," on the other hand, delivers the kind of quick-witted punch that works so well on this page.
I think most Savoyards would state that it is "The Grand Duke" and not "Princess Ida" that is the most obscure of Gilbert and Sullivan's surviving works. Just last week, the New Yorker's capsule review of the "Ziegfeld Follies" called both W. C. Fields and Will Rogers "the funniest man in New York." This week Will Rogers plays second fiddle.
A familiar rite of spring, or so we've been told:
A new header for the "Sports" section featuring William Tell by Rea Irvin:
"Sports"
Some light verse to read on your next cab ride:
"Indifference" by Arthur Guiterman
"'..."Once a P. A. man, always a P. A. man."'" A humorous piece by Charles Street reimagines dime novel hero Frank Merriwell at the Police Academy. A misfire, to be sure.
"Frank Merriwell's Triumph"
Note: Did you happen to catch the May 2nd issue? If you missed it in 1925, you can still read my full report.
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