Life — June 3, 1886 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ODE TO CANADA, CANADA! O Canada! How cool thy breezes blow But cooler far the loved and lost Who to thy shelter go. If e’er the law my native land Should make too hot for me Upon my office door be chalked The legend: “G. T. C.” * . . HILLY AND UNINTERESTING. CHICAGO man, who is recently back from Europe, was asked what he thought of the scenery in Switzerland. “ T don’t think much of it,”: he said, ‘‘it’s too hilly. me Illinois for scenery every time.” Give CAREFUL OF HIS HEALTH. “cc EE here,” said the bartender to a stranger who was making sad havoc at the free lunch counter, “ain't you going to buy anything to drink ?” “Nop, I guess not,” replied the stranger, with his mouth full of cold slaw and pickled beets. ‘It was only this morning | was reading in the paper that liquor affects the coating of the stomach and eventually destroys one’s appetite. I don't propose to get dyspepsia settled on me, if I can help it. F Canada should be annexed to the United States an | official position in a bank would be shorn of three-thirds of its desirability. . . E covered the whole point—The man who sat down on a carpet tack. A BOYCOTT AND EVERY APPEARANCE OF A STRIKE TO FOLLOW. FINE WRITING. MAN in Philadelphia has engraved the Lord’s Prayer on a three-cent piece, but Byron wrote a poem on a corsair. * . . HE leading opponent of Irish Home Rule in Parliament is baldheaded. . . . NOTHER of the only survivors of the Balaklava charge has just died. The rest of him are enjoying very fair health. . * * NEW YORK tobacconist put out a sign, “ Good Strip- pers Wanted,” and was overrun with variety actresses seeking engagements. . * * HE meanest man on record is a doctor by the name of Dobbs. During his recent courtship he drove two miles out of town to see his fiancée twice a week. The day after the wedding he sent in his bill to her father, having charged her at the rate of two dollars a visit. . . . DRAWING THE LINE. ASTUS: Mistah Smif I wan’s ter ox yo’ er question. Mr. Smith : All right, Rastus. Rastus: Ise gwine ter git married nex’ week an’ I wan’s ter know what am de kerrect thing ‘bout payin’ de minister. Yo’ see, Mistah Smif, de lady ‘pon whom Ise bout to confer de honah ob my han’ am werry high toned in her depo'tment, sah, an’ I wuddent wan’ ter do nuffin’ what wuzzent in de lates’ style. What I wan’s ter know is. should I han’ de minister de money myself, sah, or dispute a fr’en’ ter do hit fo’ me? Mr. Smith: I see; anybody going to stand up with you Rastus ? Rastus : Yes, sah. Sam Johnsing am ter be my bes’ man. Mr. Smith: Well, put the money in an envelope and let Sam hand it to the minister. Rastus: What! let Sam Johnsing handle dat monty? No, sah. Mr. Smith: Why not? Rastus: Cos I wuddent da’ resk it. I has de utmos’ con- fidence in Sam as a gemmen, sah. Sam am a good fr’en’ of mine, an’ he am a great ladies’ man, an’ werry popler in sassciety an’ wif de fa’r sex, an’ ebbery thing ob dat so't, sah, but ef I should let him handle dat dollah bill de minister would nebber see it, ‘deed he wuddent. I has de utmos’ confidence in Sam, Mistah Smif, ‘cept when it comes ter wealth. Sam ain’t yuse ter wealth. comicbooks.com