Life, 1885-01-22 · page 4 of 16
Life — January 22, 1885 — page 4: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of "No Chance for the Poor" The cartoon depicts a politician refusing to give a poor person a ride in his carriage. The dialogue is a class-based joke: when the beggar asks for a ride to "Valley Kerridge," the politician demands payment ("twenty-five cents"), then dismissively suggests walking would save money. The punchline mocks upper-class hypocrisy—the politician pedantically calculates the poor man's savings while refusing basic charity. The satire targets the callousness of wealthy, politically-connected individuals toward the working poor. By having the politician invoke economic "efficiency" to justify denying aid, the cartoon critiques how the privileged rationalize indifference to poverty as practical wisdom rather than selfishness. The artwork style and page placement (in Life magazine's satirical section) confirm this is social commentary on class inequality.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
1 speaking of the recent tragedy in Rossa’s office, the Tribune says: “Thomas F. Phelan badly wounded.” Well, what of it? If Mr. Reid was stabbed six times in the neck, we guess he'd be Phelan badly wounded. These editors make so much out of nothing. . . * HE District Attorney has decided that there shall be no roller skating on Sunday. He thinks that whatever other kinds there may be in the sport, there is no bump of reverence there. * . * O, Henrietta, the Egyptian proposals have no reference to the Queen's present condition of singularity. . . * 6¢ 7 SEE,” said Mr. Crankum, “that Mr. Evarts has twenty- seven votes for the Senatorship ?” “The Tribune claims fifty-four,” replied Crinkum. “ That's what I said,” was Crankum's reply. . . * RINCE ALBERT VICTOR of Wales is twenty-one years of age, whereat the people rejoice and feel honored when permitted to settle a couple of national debts on him. It's a big thing for a prince to live twenty-one years and get a million pounds; much bigger than if he lived a million years and only got twenty-one pounds. And yet, if Albert Victor does live that length of time he will doubtless discover a period—not far off—when the people will kick even at the twenty-one pound basis. Taking it all in all, we are glad we are not a prince! . . . AJOR NUTT, the midget, has been married. He will star the county as the great and only living philopena. . * * E have reached the season of the year when men “ swear ” on again. . . . OME Baltimore contractors have built the city hall for $250,000 less than the estimated cost. This is—but no, we refuse to believe in the possibility of a Practice so pernicious to one of the oldest of our American institutions, . . . T is wonderful to note with what heroic self-abnegation the government employés are striving to stick to their posts, Casabianca is nowhere! NO CHANCE FOR THE POOR. Politician; AN’ PHWAT DO YOU ASK FUR A ROIDE Nv _YER YALLER KERRIDGE? TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. fan: TWINTY-FOIVE CINTS! AN’ IS THAT ALL WAN SAVES BY WALKIN’? BEGORRA! THE COUNTHRY 'S GOIN’ TER THE DOGS, SHURE! OUR LAW REPORTS. [From Advance Proofs of Legal Column of a prominent N. ¥. Daily Newspaper. HE celebrated case of Romulus vs. Remus came up be- fore Referee Wiggs yesterday morning in the referee's office. Lazily the hands of the office clock went their melan- choly rounds; sadly chimed the bells denoting the hour of ten, for which time the case was set down. The referee had arrived ten minutes before and was patiently waiting the coming of the leading counsel, Messrs. Rosconk and Joak. The small fry counsel who have been retained from time to time since Caius Julius Caesar appointed the referee, and the four gentlemen who are contesting the referee's right to sit on the case—as well as the counsel—were seated around the table reading dusty tomes and now and then jotting down some point of supposed value to the suit. At five minutes past ten the door opened and Mr. Joak, rosy as to his cheeks, arrived. “Good morning, Mr. Referee (laughter); 1 hope you are well this morning ?” This outburst of wit convulsed all in the room, while the referee, himself, as he rapped for order with difficulty re- pressed a smile.