Life — March 29, 1883 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SAYS HE WOULD SMILE. ELL, I should smile in rap- ture gay If she would only deign to “T like you as a friend,” and slip Within my palm the finger-tip She snaps in her coquettish way. And if her eyes of azure-gray Grew tender as the blooms of May, In warmth of my compan- ionship— Well, I should smile. But, O, if she her head should lay Against my buttonhole-bouquet, And lift the lushness of her lip To mine—my giddy heart would skip The tra-la-lee till Judgment Day,— Well, I should smile ! J. W. R. BOOKISHNESS. R. C. G. BUSH has prepared a book of twenty pictures, called “ Our Choir ; A Symphonie in A, B, C, D, E, F, G, etc. Flat and Sharp, Major or Minor.” It is a series of pen characters, as noted in connection with church music. We suppose the pic- tures—being just in number what they are—constitute the score, which the choir reads ; and this leads us to observe that “Our Choir” is a ream-arkable book. [N. B.—The point of | this merry jest is in the play of wit on “quire” and “ream.” The explanation and the diagram go with the joke. No extra charge. If you don’t want what you see, ask for it.] “Science and Sentiment” is the title of a new novel by President Porter. It is said to relate to the conflict between Sentiment as represented by Mr. T. De Witt Talmage, of Brooklyn, and Science as repre- sented by Mr. John L. Sullivan, of Boston. Our own impression is that Science would knock out Sentiment in three rounds, Marquis of Queensbury rules. Mr. R. A. Proctor, an English scientific person, is about to publish a scientific work on the “ Mysteries of Time and Space.” Probably Mr. Proctor has been a reporter, and has learnt to make out his bill. Morro of the dwellers upon the rocks in Harlen— Will any gintlemin thread on the tail av me goat? LIFE MR. JACOBS. [By the Author of ** Messrs. Abrahams and Isaacs,” ‘* The Lost Tribes, An 'Ebrew Jew,” etc., etc.) CHAPTER II. ABOU-BEN-J ACOBS. J WAS seated that evening at the open door of my apartment, pensively inhaling the fumes of my brandy fawnee, and watching the moon moving rapidly up and down behind a grove of mandragoras, as she does only in the Punjaub (and there only after dinner), when a tall young Sepoy presented himself, and after making three salaams in succession on a Persian rug, spread before the threshold for the purpose, addressed me as follows : ‘* Brother of the moon, uncle of the sun, inhabitant of the whole earth, peace be with you.” “And with you peace,” I replied. “The effendi Abou-hen-Jacobs requests the illumination of your countenance in the darkness of his humble shebang.” “ May my grave be defiled with the blood of a pig if I refuse,” I answered, and rising, I followed the messenger through the corridors of the hotel. Arrived at a door which gave upon the verandah, he lifted a portidre of cloth of gold, aad knocking his forehead thrice upon the sill, ushered me into the presence of my table acquaintance of the morning. Iam a man not easily moved. Nil admirari is the motto of yours truly, Paul Pry. Aye, I ama cold, cynical misanthrope, well acquainted with the hollowness of the world, and with the philosophy of Kant and Joseph Cock. I have seen most things worth seeing, and despise them all, I am alike powerful in mind and body, but I will not disguise the fact that what I saw in ‘Abou-ben-}acobs’ apartment drew from me a sudden exclamation of surprise. There was no light in the room except that shed by my host's wonderful eyes, but that was stronger than the radiance of a double-burner student lamp, and it was enough to show what treas- ures the place contained. The walls were covered with the inscrip- tion "God bless our home,” emblazoned in the most gorgeous aniline dyes, and in twenty-seven languages. Among these shone the owner's coat of arms—three fats rampant saéa, ina field or, Screens covered with storks, blue and white cuspjdors, and Eastern rocking chairs stood about in reckless profusion. What-nots and brackets were littered with ivory paper-cutters, Scotch plaid card-cases, papier macké thingumbobs, feathers and gwiri, Chinese puzzles and Japanese fans, diamonds bigger than pullets’ eggs. Several lacs ‘of rupees glittered on the thick rug, where they had been negligently scattered. An Abyssinian yata- ae and a Malay creese lay beside an asbestos shaving cup, avi oes seemingly been used as razors, ‘ntrez,”" said my host, employing for the nonce the Parisian argot, which, I afterwards discovered, he knew even more inti- mately than Cardinal Mezzofanti, He was lying on the rug in an easy attitude, one of his legs folded gracefully around his neck, and the other swinging in a ring of jadestone, which depended from the roof by a cord of fine Manilla hemp. He had in his hand a small pocket edition of the Zendavesta. ** You little expected to find me surrounded with such luxuries in this dog of a hotel,’’ he continued, with a smile; ‘but, my dear fellow, to a man of my resources, money is no object. Take a hookah. "My pipe bearers are both dead, poor fellows, in con- sequence of having eaten too many cobras this morning, so you'll have to work it yourself. It is quite a blow,” he added with a sigh. ‘‘Itis so difficult to get thoroughly trained servants in these beastly outlying hill stations,” I did as he bade, and we both puffed for a while in silence. I noticed that he had ex- changed the European costume of the morning for a garment more strictly Oriental, namely a pajama of rose-colored silk, em- broidered at the throat with pearls, At length he broke the silence. “Tell me,” I asked, ‘are you really a Persian anda descendant of Zoroaster, as Muligatawney Supe told me an hour ago? Your name on the hotel register is indeed Abou-ben-Jacobs, but I can- not resist the suspicion that Tell me, I conjure you, what — comicbooks.com