More, as I continue to go through Great Cartoons of the World, Series 7 from 1972, like I did last week.
This was by Miroslav Barták for Dikobraz
Donald Reilly for New Yorker, about whom editor John Bailey says in the introduction to this book:
Reilly is a very conventional young man who impresses as having good sense and good taste, and as someone who would be nice to have as a brother or nephew. He is totally in touch with the twentieth century, hates the scene, but instead of ranting and railing in his cartoons, he simply makes very telling thrusts.
James Stevenson, who again is written about in the introduction:
Stevenson looks like the last of the adventurers. One sees him in Kongkow, where the stuff floats on the water among the pilings, or present when the cops kick in the door, turning out to be a detective. There is a toughness of spirit inside him. But the work is sensitive and delicate.
Jean-Jacques Sempé for Denoël
Boris Drucker for New Yorker
Lee Lorenz, also for New Yorker.
Because he is blond and looks like the classical poet of the nineteenth century, one expects a delicate line from Lorenz. However, what one gets is a fat line of great strength and character. There is nothing at all nineteenth century about his work, or his very controlled thoughts on the subject of human nature.
Charles Saxon, for the outlet for most one-panel cartoons, The New Yorker