Life, 1885-04-16 · page 3 of 16
Life — April 16, 1885 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 213 **The Cartoon:** "The Evening After the Reunion" depicts a domestic scene with a man and woman in conversation. The caption indicates a comedic dialogue where the man (appearing disheveled) claims he hasn't been seen "otherwise" by Miss Ethel, while the woman questions his whereabouts with obvious skepticism. **The Satire:** This appears to be social satire about post-reunion behavior and marital suspicion. The humor relies on the contrast between the man's weak denial and the woman's knowing skepticism—a classic domestic comedy trope about infidelity or flirtation. **The Poem Below:** "Flirtation" narrates a brief romantic encounter at a ball, exploring ambiguity about whether the interaction constituted genuine flirtation or something more meaningful. The page satirizes early 20th-century courtship conventions and marriage anxieties through both visual and literary means.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE EVENING AFTER THE REUNION. Miss Ethel (innocently): WHY, MR. BROWN, HOW SOBER YOU ARE TO-NIGHT. The Rev. Brown (in some alarm, absent mindedly) dignity—HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ME OTHERWISE, MISS EL? TO-NIGHT, YES; BUT—recovering himself, and with much FLIRTATION. MET fair Helen at the ball, She was not short ; she was not tall. Her hair was brown, her cheek was creamy, Her eyes were gay by turns or dreamy ; Her face, her form, her manners, all Possessed a subtle fascination. I tell you! ‘twas a rare flirtation. Nothing was sweeter than her smile, Unless it was her voice ; her style Was rather quiet, somewhat lazy, And yet, she waltzed to drive one crazy. I clasped her dainty waist and while We whirled, oblivious of creation, We had a desperate flirtation. One little week ih town she stayed. We met, we danced, we sang, we played, We took a drive, and growing bolder, A hundred tender things I told her, And more, I thought of, left unsaid. At last we parted at the station. Great Scott! it was a prime flirtation. I wonder if well ever—there ! That makes the hundredth time, I swear! I feel so strange, I know not whether I'm dull, or sick, or both together ; The face of that pernicious fair Has haunted me without cessation— { wonder if it was “ flirtation.” comicbooks.com