Life, 1884-09-04 · page 6 of 16
Life — September 4, 1884 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 132 This page contains three distinct literary pieces rather than political cartoons: 1. **"Bar Harbor"** — A prose essay about the author's visit to Bar Harbor, Maine, describing social encounters and activities like ice skating and cod fishing. 2. **"Ballad of the Can't-Get-Aways"** — A humorous poem about being stuck in the town of Dull during summer, with repeated refrains about wanting to escape. It's a lighthearted complaint about provincial summer tedium. 3. **"Ten Dollars or Ten Days"** — A satirical dialogue between a judge and prisoner named "Gulliver Jones," mocking the defendant's claim that he only drinks water, while the judge presents evidence his nose is "tinted with a crimson paint"—implying drunkenness. It's a courtroom humor piece playing on the defendant's obvious dishonesty.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
-LI MIDSUMMER MEANDERINGS.. Il. Bar Harbor. [* my unseemly haste to leave Noodleport and escape the clutches of Mrs. Parvenu when she learned of the de- ception practised upon her by my substitute and myself, I neglected to settle with the Oshun House people for my board and they have in consequence placed so high a tariff upon by baggage that I have concluded to let them store it for me indefinitely. My embarrassment at the loss of my Ducal wardrobe was but temporary as I still retained a large enough interest ina New York Cashier to warrant my invest- ment ina tennis suit, a Tam O'Shanter and a Racquet pre- vious to my departure for Bar Harbor where I understand the “trousseau” of the traveller need consist of no more than the articles enumerated above. Unfortunately I knew no one at Bar Harbor upon my arrival and for four days I wandered aimlessly about the town and in my aimless wander- ings often bethought myself of the query, why do they call it Bar Harbor! I do not believe I left a square inch of the place unexplored and if any Bar was Harbored there, my visual and other perceptive faculties must be tremendously at fault. I see by a New York paper that Mr. Blaine is here. This may account for the extreme cold which has rendered the whole town rather blue, and under the existing laws of Pro- hibition the coloring can hardly be changed although there are several choice spirits here who would greatly rejoice at an opportunity to paint the town pink. I patronized the skating rink last evening and met several charming young ladies. That is we met under painful cir- cumstances which will not permit of description. Suffice it to say that by the unanimous request of all present my skates were removed from my feet and the building forcibly taken from around me. Mr. Blaine sneezed at half past three o'clock yesterday | afternoon but no lives have been reported as lost. You may expect a great electric storm in New York in about twenty- four hours, Four friends who arrived last evening took me off cod- fishing. banjos lost in a recent canoe wreck, and a very bad cold. My share of the excursion cost me $17.50, but the return I had for the outlay was invaluable as I sold the cod for four cents a pound, netting thereby forty cents; I restored the banjos to the original owners who happened to be of the fair sex and by whom I have been invited to dinner, lunch and breakfast, while my cold has made me an object of sympathy to say nothing of my experiences as a fisherman which, in view of the present requirements for the Presidency, may prove of exceptional value. Mr. Blaine went canoeing last evening and was nearly drowned. The news was received with joy. I had a delightful time and caught four cod, three | FE: dick ; the Kanoedels of Philadelphia at the Malvern and myself at the Hotel du Docke. (1 insertion at half rates. Tudzwfgnk.) Mr. Blaine will have his hair cut to-morrow and sets out for Bangor where he will stump for Logan. T leave for Quebec this afternoon. CHOLMONDELEY HARCOURT. BALLAD OF THE CAN’T-GET-AWAYS. ERE at my desk in the August heat, While below there rumbles a heavy dray, This is the strain I so often repeat— Dull is the town when you can’t get away. Down at Bar Harbor the season is gay. Once I went down there as early as June, Thoughts of it still reassert their old sway— Tennis, and strolls ‘neath the August moon ! I study the prices of corn and of wheat And gloomily think that the whole does n't pay ; No one is left whom I'm anxious to meet, Dull is the town when you can't get away. Oh! to be out there again in the bay, Drifting and hearing her favorite tune, Or Rodick's piazza at midnight with May— Tennis, and strolls ‘neath the August moon ! Hot is the office and hotter the street, Business is dull, yet here I must stay, Smoke all the evening and gaze at my feet, Dull is the town when you can’t get away. Hair that was golden and eyes that were gray, Out on the rocks in the afternoon— Never a thought what mamma would say— Tennis, and strolls ‘neath the August moon ! ENVOY, Weary and worn by the summer's day, Dull is the town when you can’t get away. Give us, ye gods, but a single boon— Tennis, and strolls ‘neath the August moon! “TEN DOLLARS OR TEN DAYS.” “cs ULLIVER JONES,” said His Honor as the prisoner stood up behind the railing, “you are charged by the officer with being drunk and disorderly!" “Oh, your Honor /” said Mr. Jones, deprecatingly. “ How could anyone for a single énstant entertain a suspicion that such a slander was true? I never drink anything but water.” “ Your nasal organ,” continued the Justice, with the air of a connoisseur, “is tinted with acrimson paint that is certainly I always said Blaine was popular. Among the latest arrivals are the Freeandeezis at the Ro- not water color, Moreover, Gulliver, the officer has testified | that your actions were erratic, to say the least.” comicbooks.com