Life, 1883-11-29 · page 3 of 16
Life — November 29, 1883 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis The main cartoon depicts a photographer with a bald client. The photographer's joke relies on a physical appearance gag: he suggests chalking the man's shiny bald head to reduce glare during photography, since "the top of your head shines so that it will take extra big." This is straightforward visual humor about baldness and studio photography techniques from the early 20th century. The satire targets vanity and the challenges photographers faced with reflective surfaces—a practical problem before modern lighting equipment. Below are three poems titled "Three Pictures," appearing unrelated to the cartoon. On the right are brief dramatic dialogue exchanges, including a reference to "West Point" cadets and hazing practices. The page primarily contains light humor and verse rather than political satire.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Photographer (to bald-headed man); EXCUSE ME, SIR; BUT THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD SHINES SO THAT IT WILL TAKE EXTRA BIG, SO IF YOU DON'T MIND, SIR, I'LL JUST CHALK IT A BIT. THREE PICTURES. 1, DDRONING of bees, and querulous tree frogs a-whirring ; Odors of marjoram, and of the sweet bouncing-betty : Lazy and sleek, the tabby cat drowsily purring ; Glimpses of sunflowers, yellow as gold is—and pretty. Tinkle the bells of cows in the far-away meadow. Echo the notes of the bob-o-link deep in the cover, Shrinks from the sun, and seeks the cool touch of the shadow, Mignonette sweet as a maiden's first kiss to her lover. Yellow the dust, and hot as the rage of Berserker. Idly the leaves of the aspen trees dangle and quiver. Busy the ants, and tireless each quick-bustling worker. Brazen the gleam of the sun on the slow-rolling river. Il. The maples flame throughout the mottled grove ; The chestnuts cast their shelly burdens forth ; The thrifty squirrel hides his treasure-trove ; The length'ning shadows creep out to the north, The smoke sinks low beneath the leaden air ; ‘The clouds hang weeping o'er the plundered fields, As some fond maiden, ta her mute despair, To her dead love a tearful tribute yields. MI. ‘The Frost-King dons his icy diadem ; And at his frown the earth grows grey and old. Dead are the flowers, the scattered leaves are dead ; Dead as the maiden’s heart, whence love is fled. Dead is the snowy-shrouded year, and cold The winds shriek out its mournful requiem, - First Jeatous Baritone (referring to successful Tenor): ** Looks like a Poll Parrot, do n't he?” Seconp J. B.: “ Yes, and sings like one, too.” First J. B.: “ And what an appropriate song that was for him—‘O would that I could die.’ " ‘THE new colored cadet at West Point has not been hazed, and is treated with studied respect by the white cadets. In this connection it may not be improper to remark that the new colored cadet is six feet, one inch in height, with long arms and fists like dumb bells, and the general look of a healthy man who is aching for a fight. Whatever else may be said about the West Point cadets, they know who to haze. comicbooks.com