Life, 1883-08-02 · page 12 of 16
Life — August 2, 1883 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Most Unkindest Cut of All" This cartoon satirizes a barber's attempt at flattery or manipulation. Mr. Tralala questions the barber's bill after receiving a haircut and shave, noting the shave should cost 20 cents. The barber deflects, claiming he couldn't charge for it—a transparent ploy to seem generous while actually avoiding payment discussion. The accompanying dialogue mocks a singing teacher (likely "Signor" and his student "Celeste") who claims the 19-year-old student cannot sing because it might injure her throat. The satire suggests this is a pretense—the family is being portrayed as shams relying on deception and managing the girl's prospects (likely for marriage, given the final poem's mention of "Hymen's way"). The joke targets social climbers and those who hide their mercenary intentions behind false courtesy or pseudointellectual excuses.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE MOST UNKINDEST CUT OF ALL. Mr. Tralala (to Barber after enjoying a hair cut and his first shave and receiving his“ check”); | THINK YOU'VE MADE A MISTAKE. Is N'T A SHAVE 20 CENTS? Barber (deprecatingly) : Reauy, | COULDN'T THINK OF CHARG- ING FOR ¢hal, SiR. How much does he charge a lesson? Six dollars. Has anybody ever heard Celeste sing ? No, dear. Why? Well the Signor says she might injure her throat, if she sang much while yet so young. She ts nineteen? Exactly. /t is a remarkable family when you come to know their points? Very. Viuleare the points in confidence from mama? Yes, dear, in strict confidence. Otherwise you might think them a precious lot of muffs? Possibly. Do you think the managing mama will succeed? If she does not, it will not be her fault. WISDOM. J* the clear strawberry weather, When the sun in splendor shone, Maud and I went out together, Roaming through a woodland zone; She was fair, and I was spoony,— She was wise, and I was not; For a fellow 's always looney When soft hair with gold is shot. Ah, her hands were white and slender, And her voice was like the song Of a bird, whose sleepy, tender Carol thrills the air along; And I thought her like the lily, Swaying with the restless tide; If the simile seem silly, Think that she was by your side,— That the air was cool and fragrant, And your face was softly fanned By a tress, that breezes vagrant Loosed from out its azure band: Think the path was lone and narrow, And quite willing to eclipse All the world save some pert sparrow, When she tumed to you her lips, Think of this, and then remember That May's supple, winsome grace Makes short work of wise December, When backed by a pretty face; And then vow that I'm a softy, Just because the papers say That your servant and Maud Lofty Soon will travel Hymen’s way. Do I like my mess of pottage ? Maud is handsome as a peach, And the owner of a cottage At Nantasket on the beach,— Is well-read, and shrewd, and witty, And has all the points to match; So I doubt if in the city I could find a better catch, Do n't be heavy on a fellow— Wait till Love shall play his hand; Some fine day when skies are mellow, You will bow to his command,— Yes, and think, oh, scorning mortal, That the acme of all bliss Is to wait beside the portal That you open with a kiss. Tuos. S, Cottier.