Life, 1884-02-14 · page 7 of 16
Life — February 14, 1884 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 91 This page contains primarily literary content rather than political cartoons. The main illustrated elements are: **Two pen-and-ink sketches** accompanying Chapter IV of a serialized story about a Cardinal, a Swedish Buddhist, and a young couple named Marietta in the Vatican and Italy. The sketches show romantic scenes: one of a couple in period dress, another of figures at sunset on a terrace. The right column features **Valentine's Day poetry** and humorous definitions (the "Stamp Act" as "a clog dance," for example). These appear to be typical magazine filler—lighthearted wordplay rather than social commentary. The page reflects *Life* magazine's mix of serialized fiction, poetry, and gentle humor typical of early 20th-century American periodicals, rather than sharp political satire.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LIFE MYT... Tomson examined in thought the state of her father’s funds. She did not love the swar thy Italian, but he was rich, and it oc- curred to her that as his uncle had been a Cardinal, Bibuloso might rise you name the day ?” to be Pope. “Next | week, Wednesday | —as Wednesday is | a good day for wed'n’s,”’ she weak- ly murmured. Bib- uloso kissed her icy finger tips. A man resting a moment from the labor of dancing saw that something was up. His experience told him what it was. “ MADEMOISELLE,” HE SAID IN LOW AND EARNEST FRENCH. Cuaprer IV. THE Cardinal, with much pains, having invoked a Papal dispensation, since the bride was a Sweden- borgian buddhist, married the young couple in achapel | in the Vatican. The Marchese immediately took a furnished villa at Sorrento, because Marietta had once been interested in wood-carving. At sunset they were walking on the terrace. “How green it is,” said Marietta, trying to overcome a secret half-acknowledged repugnance to macaroni. “‘ What is green, caramia?” he whispered. ‘Why! cheese.” “What should have suggested cheese?” “Oh,” said Marietta, with a half blush, “it must have been your name,” From this moment she began to feel that the Italian did not appreciate her jokes. Life grew stale. AT SUNSET THEY WERE WALKING ON THE TERRACE. (Zo be Concluded.) A VALENTINE. A VALENTINE to you, my love, The urchin, Cupid, brings, O’erflowing with the longings of The heart of him who sings. *T is full of tenderness you ’Il find, And very sentimental ; But, pray you, to its faults be blind, And to its pleading, gentle. Love lurks in every letter, true !— The day forgives the crime— And then, remember, love, ’t is you Who make the rhymester rhyme. So don’t blame Cupid if I scrawl, In fashion, stylography, A sentence very sweet, and call It “admirable taffy.” I know he wears a gauzy mask,— This strategy is mine, Who am too timid, love, to ask You—“ Be my Valentine !” But if your guesses fail to hit My name, don’t let that fret you! If you ’ll be mine, that settles it ! I'll call around and get you ! F.D.S. Tue Stamp Act—A clog dance. Aw onkneesy position.—Tying a girl’s shoe. Tue Vassar girl’s favorite Roman hero.—Marius. TriumPH of matter over mind—A disobedient child. THE patron saint of the modern parlor stove.—St. Nicholas. Ir was a fireman’s parade headed by a brass band. As they turned the corner, Gus Cesar, who was holding up a hitching-post, spelled out the letters, “E. P-l-u-r-i-b-u-s U-n-u-m,” ‘painted on the head of the big drum. “Now, Jake, now, wha-what's that?” he asked of a lank negro standing under the awning with his mouth open. “Do n’t yer know nuffin?” was the reply. “Can’t yer read? Dat’s de name ob de man wot made de drum.” UNFORGOTTEN. A YEAR ago I promised thee White rosebuds, for a valentine. Dear, through thy slumber canst thou see (A year ago I promised thee !) That now I lay them, reverently, In those fair, folded hands of thine ? A year ago I promised thee White rosebuds for a valentine. E. G. S.