Life, 1883-03-22 · page 10 of 16
Life — March 22, 1883 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Love Me, Love My Dog" and "Scipio Africanus" **"Love Me, Love My Dog"** is a romantic poem by Arthur Penn, illustrated with a woman and small dog. It uses "Mother Hubbard" (likely referencing the nursery rhyme character) as a playful addressee. The poem's conceit: an American suitor ("Yankee") attempts to woo a British woman by declaring love for her, though he despises her dog—ultimately asking her to choose between them. The satire mocks transatlantic courtship and romantic compromise. **"Scipio Africanus"** is a dialect-heavy comic piece featuring "Uncle Scipio," a Black character speaking in exaggerated vernacular. Asked about tariff protection, he digresses into observations about African American social life and mule-raising, eventually comparing economic protection policy to unnecessary animal care. The piece reflects period racial stereotypes and caricature common to Life magazine's satirical humor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
aes LOVE ME, LOVE MY DOG. You have roguish, laughing eyes, Mother Hubbard ; You are cloaked in quaintest guise, Mother Hubbard; Cunning is your tiny doggy, Though his throat is full and froggy, And his walk’s a trifle groggy, Mother Hubbard. 4 IL. Though your manner's rather skittish, Mother Hubbard, ‘Though your costume’s odd and British, Mother Hubbard, By some happy hanky-panky, Can't you learn to love a Yankee, If he isn’t lean and lanky, Mother Hubbard ? Il. Yet I'm almost giving hope up, Mother Hubbard. For I cannot love your low pup, Mother Hubbard— Crouching there beneath the bureau Showing all his teeth—a true row,— In the darkling Chiaroscuro, Mother Hubbard. IV. Time soon reaps us with his sickle, Mother Hubbard ; Fashions fade and men are fickle, Mother Hubbard : He's a mere canine Silenus, Quite unfit for such a Venus! Can't you make a choice between us, Mother Hubbard ? ARTHUR Penn, SCIPIO AFRICANUS. U NCLE SCIPIO was recently asked his opinion of the tariff, ** Wot tar'f?’’ he demanded, a gleam of suspicion shooting out of his starboard eye. ** The protection tariff, of course.” “Well, boss, Ise for purtection. T'odder day I jined de’ 'Ciety fur de Purtection ob Cruelty to Ani- mules. Ise fur purtection ; but all t’ings hes dar Jimits, ‘ceptin’ de ways ob de cullud gals ‘boat yar. Dar's dat Celia Johnsing, nex’ do’, Las’ night J cotched her gwine out, dresse: uP in all she could buy an’ borrer, an’ puttin’ on mo’ frills dan a new preacher in a chu’ch full o’ wimmin, ‘Whar’s you gwine, Celia?’ says I. 'To de ‘Ciety," says she. ‘Wot 'Ciety? says I. *Chu'ch 'Ciety, ob co’se,’ says she. Now, she wasn’t gwine to no ‘ciety, ceptin’ it was a cake walk, or to meet some coon roun’ de corner an’ act myster’ous, Oh, I knows 'em, boss, Sometimes Ise afeard de cullud folks is gittin’ to be nigh as bad as de wite folks.” ‘What has that to do with the tariff, Uncle Scip ?” “*T war sayin’ dat all t’ings hes dar limits, ororter hev. Dar's de mule. De mule is a useful creatur; but dar ain't no jestice in makin’ me ride a mule, wen I'd rudder ride a hoss, jess ‘case de mules is raised yar. It's right to purtect the mule, to treat him well an’ gib hima chance; but it ain't right to stuff him wid oats, an’ tic ribbins on his ye’rs, an’ paint him wid stripes like a zebray, 'ticklelarly at odder folks’s expense. Den, ag'in, wen you's raised de mule, an’ he’s done growed, he orter work. Ef he won't work den, or can’t work, better sell dat mule.”” A TOO SUGGESTIVE OBSERVATION.—When a young lady says, “He's very much of a gentleman.” Suc- Gestion. “ How much?” = comicbooks.com