Life — September 23, 1886 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

184 ii" AL Bcd BACHELOR'S HALL. Say, I DON'T BELIEVE THERE'S ANY USE IN MAKING UP THIS BED TO-NIGHT, I WAS SLEEPING MIGHTY COMFORTABLE WHEN I | WAS AROUSED THIS MORNING AT FIVE O'CLOCK, AND I DON’T SEE | BUT THAT EVERYTHING IS JUST AS I LEFT IT THEN. factory — cannot be utilized in some way or other, instead of wasting its sweetness on the desert air. Meanwhile the yelling goes on superbly. The mother does not seem to mind it particularly, and only makes faint efforts to stop it by dancing the child on her knee, the only result being the addition of a rhythm to the howling. At last, how- ever, a bottle of milk is produced, and six inches of hose | | howling or choke. ~ LIPE - turned down the throat of the patient, who, perforce, has to stop The milk, however, disagrees with it so seriously that we make a break for the smoking car, and as we pass, overhear the words “horrid man” from the two females behind us. We do most of our journeying nowadays in that peram- bulating Gehenna — the smoking car—we and the drunken | men and the string of convicts going to the State asylum, | and when in the silence of the train's stoppages we hear | through the closed.doors and intervening cars the noise of a | faint though ceaseless squalling, we hug ourselves for joy and thank heaven for our bachelorhood, and more particularly thank a certain young female with Italian sunset hair, who, in the long ago, laboring under the impression that she could do better, gave us. a very decided “no,” a “no” that has saved us endless miseries, saved us probably from a degenera- tion so great that we might have been seen at this day wandering hopelessly about the gardens of the poor-house pushing an “ emergency perambulator”* before us, dressed in a soft felt hat, a long frock coat, a blue cravat, and attended | by a string of chil—, but, no! the picture is too horrible! RK. * A perambulator of extra width for twins. THE SADDEST THING. E read sad things from the poet's pen ; Our hearts are moved by the artist's brush ; But the saddest thing to many men, Is drawing one card to a bob-tailed flush. Tom Masson. A GENUINE CURIOSITY. Vek (to dime museum freak): Are you the Wild Man of the Woods ? FREAK: No, sir; I am the man who never says I want to know. VISITOR (astonished ): 1 want to know ? AN INTERESTINGCONVERSATION. [— USBAND: What were you and old Mrs. Smith talking so earnestly about ? Wire: Oh, nothing in particular; simply one thing and another. HusBAND: I see. She talked about one thing and you talked about another. MORE LIKELY TO FIT. Ft OLD LADY (én dry-goods store) : I will look at your dress goods. CLERK: Yes, ma’am. Something in double width ? A PLEASURE IN STORE FOR HIM. HE (a¢ @ musicale): Are you an admirer of Beethoven, Mr. Hobson? HE: Well—er—yes. I admire his music — very much, but I have never met Beethoven himself. OH! DEAR ALDERMAN, WILL YOU HELP ME TO GET INTO ANY HUMBLE POSITION — OF COURSE, I WAS BORN AND EDUCATED IN AMERICA, BUT I COULDN’T HELP IT. WELL, BEDAD, AND THE CHEEK 0’ YEZ! THER’S NOT ENOUGH OFFICES FOR OURSILVES! comicbooks.com