Life, 1884-05-01 · page 12 of 16
Life — May 1, 1884 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "That Funeral in Mokeville" This satirical story mocks a political figure (identified only as "R. B. H.") who aspires to the Presidency. The humor centers on domestic discord: his wife repeatedly vetoes his political ambitions, responding "Shan't!" whenever he says "Shall!" about running for office. The narrative references real 19th-century political rivals—Samuel J. Tilden (Democratic candidate) and James G. Blaine (whose book "Blaine on Ins and Outs" is mentioned). The story suggests the protagonist previously lost a close election to one of these figures but kept the "gate-money" (admission fees), implying he profited regardless of losing. The joke's point: this would-be politician is dominated by his wife at home and cares more about money than genuine political competition. The closing note about "muddled appearance" caused by "ignorance" and "intemperance" adds a layer suggesting the narrator may be unreliable or intoxicated—further satirizing the era's political culture.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THAT FUNERAL IN MOKEVILLE. “* Does your father expect to run for the Presidency this year ?” I asked. “T heard Pa tell a man who called here to sell a book called ‘Blaine on Ins and Outs’ that he’d give all his old boots to get there again. Then when Pa comes down to breakfast he looks at Ma and says ‘Shall,’ but Ma takes him up short and freezes him out by saying ‘Shan’t.’. They keep this up until we kids strike for our breakfast. I think it’s kinder low down in Ma not to let Pa run if he wants to.” “*T see,” said I, ‘‘ but how does your father seem to feel about the other candidates ?” “Well, we dassen’t say anything about them. I asked Pa once who Samuel J. Tilden was and Ma put me up in the attic on bread and water for three days. Pa said there never was any such man as Sam Tilden, Say, wasn’t there, truly ?” “Yes, my boy,” said I; ‘there never was a time when there was not sucha man, if the Republican papers speak truly when they tell his age. He and your Pa had a race once, and no one ever knew which won. Your father got the gate-money, how- ever, and that was all he wanted.” The boy’s mother came in at this point, and I deemed it best to withdraw. As I strolled down the gravel walk I heard from the topmost regions of the house, the rich, mellow voice of R. B, H. himself saying : SHALL! Immediately thereafter, as if in echoing response, came a deep bass voice of undoubted female origin, saying : SHAN'T ! The chances are that of the two the deep bass voice of un- doubted female origin spoke the more truly. [Note to the Editor—It is due to my reputation for me to state that the muddled appearance of this interview is caused by the ignorance of some people as to where hospitality ceases and in- temperance begins | CARLYLE SMITH. MAY BLOSSOM. T last the boards of the Madison Square Theatre have given 4 place to a play where the movement is that of men and women of flesh and blood, and not that of jointed and heterogene- ous marionettes. ‘‘ May Blossom,” by David Belasco, is a virile play of the right sort. Its story is simple, straightforward and earnest ; its range is wide; its incidents constrained and yet dramatic ; its purpose good ; its dialogue bright ; its coloring comicbooks.com