Life — June 17, 1886 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

- LIFE: the sake of the afternoon amusement of a foreign nurse girl, is a question, the answer for which you may inquire for in vain among all the bachelors of this great Union. Justice is a lady, and she is probably fond of babies, and likes to see them out in the fresh air and bright sunshine; but it is for the protection of the babies as well as the men that our law-makers should look after the wanton baby carriage. The baby often does not come out unscathed from the col- lision. A fat man, upon running suddenly against a baby carriage, is pretty sure to be thrown forward by his own momentum on top of the baby; and it is dangerous as well as unpleasant, when you are lying on your back in a relaxed position, to have a fat man fall on you. Sometimes the carriage is ups and the baby hits its head on the hard sidewalk—for it is . well-known fact that babies always fall on their heads if they have half a chance. Quick-tempered men, in the agony of the moment, have even been known to kick baby carriages over into the gutter. Even the most fortunate baby becomes accustomed to a aual flow of bad language from repeated collisions, and wai be sure to swear at an early age. Above all, it is destructive to that virtuous simplicity which is the insurance policy of every great nation for the coming generation to grow up in carriages. When they are older they will all want four-in-hands and steam yachts. Now, by compelling every baby carriage to buy a license and have a number painted on it, we cannot expect to do away with them altogether, but the system would afford many forms of relief. A maimed person would have an easy means of redress. He would have a lien upon the baby and carriage, and could sell them at public auction, At present it is impossible to distinguish one baby carriage from another. To the ordi- nary eye a hundred babies’ faces do not show any more marked points of difference than the historic peas in the same pod; and the maids are invariably French and speak with a brogue. If the driver of a truck or cab is careless, it is easy to take his number and report him at the nearest police station, but the most drunken and reckless of cabmen ‘!:euous compared to a nurse with a baby carriage, when 3some policeman is in sight. Baby carriages could be restricted to unfrequented side- streets where there are few people to hit and no attractive shop windows to absorb the maids’ attention. Perhaps they could be compelled to keep in the middle of the street. The rag-picker has to, and she does not take up half as much room. So does the slender and careful bicycle. Itis a pity that this subject was not mentioned in the platform of either party this fall, but it is not yet too late. Let our humane legislators declare themselves openly and fearlessly for a high license for baby carriages and they can cease to trouble themselves over petty quibbles about party principles, honest government and Civil Service Reform. Let them trust the bachelors of the State to recognize and reward the man who has the real, practical welfare of the voters at heart. CRA. No, Osty THs. PETER PREPARING FOR FESTIVITIES. “ ETAH, whut yo’ gwine do wif dat razah—humph ?” “Spec's I’se gwine t’ sha’pen dat razah. Doan’ yo’ see no mo’ out’n dem ole peepe'’s ob yo'n?” “G'way, Petah! Wha’ fur? Wha’ fur yo’ a-sha’p'n'n dat razah—humph? Yo’ done got no éea’d, chile!” _ “G'way yo’se’f, ole man; yo’ done got no sense! De Baptis’ chu’ch fai’ am a-hold’n dis eb'n’n—duz yo’ know dat much? An’ dat upstaht niggah bahbe’s agwine—yo’ un’- stan’? An’ dat yalle’ gal dat tuk up wif dat upstaht niggah am agwine—duz’ yo’ hea-h me? An’ J'se agwine, an’ dis yer razah, she’s agwine. G'way yo'se’f.” B. Zim. N EVER tell a West Pointer that “cadet” is the diminu- tive of “cad.” ONE KIND OF EGG PLANT—A chicken farm. comicbooks.com