Life, 1883-01-18 · page 5 of 16
Life — January 18, 1883 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 27 **"The Waning of the Honeymoon"** cartoon satirizes newlywed disillusionment. Alfred returns home exhausted from a bachelor's dinner, and his wife Arabella expresses concern. Alfred reveals he had a nightmare about being a bachelor again—the joke being that marriage has already become so burdensome he dreams of escape. This reflects early-20th-century satirical commentary on marriage's transition from romantic idealization to domestic routine and spousal conflict. **"The Frog"** is a standalone poem personifying a frog as a philosophical "king" trapped in the bayou, contemplating mortality and cosmic significance. The romantic, somewhat grandiose tone contrasts with the frog's lowly status, creating gentle satire about pretension and self-importance—a common literary theme of the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
| Alfred, who came home very late last night from a bachelors’ dinner, a: “THAD A MOST HORRIBLE DREAM LAST NIGHT.” Arabella (sarcastically) ; Dip You, INDEED ? THE WANING OF THE HONEYMOON. nd has been“ catching it" this morning : How surpRIsING ! Alfred; Div I WAKE UP WITH A SCREAM, OR ANYTHING OF THAT SORT? Arabella; NO; PERHAPS YOU HAD EATEN SO MUCH YOU COULDN'T. WHAT WAS YOUR NIGHTMARE ? Alfred; | DREAMED I WAS A BACHELOR AGAIN, THE FROG. WHO am I but the frog—the frog ! And my realm is the dark bayou ; And my thrpne is the muddy and moss-grown log That the poison-vine clings to— Where the blacksnakes slide in the shiny tide, And the ghost of the moon looks blue. What am I but a king—a king ! For the royal robes I wear— A sceptre, too, and a signet ring, As vassals and serfs declare. And a voice, God wot ! that is equaled not In the wide world anywhere ! T can talk to the Night—the Night! Under his big black wing He tells me the tale of the world outright, And the secret of everything. For he knows you all, from the time you crawl To the doom that death will bring. The Storm swoops down, and he blows—and blows, While I drum on his swollen cheek, And croak in his angered eye, that glows With the lurid lightning’s streak— While the rushes drown in the watery frown That his bursting passions leak. And I can sce through the sky—the sky, As clear asa piece of glass ; And I can tell you the how and why Of the things that come to pass— And whether the dead are there instead Or under the graveyard grass. To your sovereign lord all hail—ail hail ! To your prince on his throne so grim. Let the moon swing low, and the high stars trail Their heads in the dust to him. And the wide world sing : Long live the king, And grace to his royal whim ! comicbooks.com