Life — December 9, 1886 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

THE NEW HOUSEKEEPER, “cc war is the matter with my little wife ?” Her dainty head falls on his shoulder, and between the sobs that shake her slight frame, she says : ““Wi-Will, I fe-feel so b-a-ad. I wanted to make some bi-bi-biscuit this noon, d got the wa-wa-water and s-a-a-l-t and ye-ye-yeast, but there’s something mi-mi-missing, and I can’t think wha-wha-what it is.” Mr. Youngman smiled quietly, and clasping his young wife to his watch pocket he placed his lips to her ear and whispered, ‘ Flour.” READING an anecdote about Brillat-Savarin’s invitation toa very meagre private dinner, where, in response to his host’s complacent invitation, ‘‘ When shall we repeat this little debauch ?” the epicure replied, ‘‘ Right now, if you please,” the historian was reminded of a little episode in the career of the Rev. Mr. Chasuble, copal clergyman of his acquaintance, who for some time presided over the religious services in one of our suburban towns. Chasuble was a good deal of a gourmet as well as a faithful pastor. One day he happened in at a parishioners house about dinner time, and weakly accepted an invitation to dinner. He found the table decorated with a sporadic dish here and there, with nothing that prom- ised the smallest satisfaction for either the appetite or the palate. “Mr. Chasuble,” said the head of the house, ‘will you offer our thanks for these viands ?” “J would be glad to accommodate you,” said the clergyman, ‘but I haven't got the cheek !" — Boston Record. A SERIES OF DISASTERS. Tramp: Won't you help a poor man that lost his family by the Charleston earthquake ? HOUSEKEEPER : Why, you are the same man that lost his family last year by the Ohio River floods. TRaMP: I know it, mum, I am one of the most unfortunate gintleman on the face of the earth, — Ex, A CHICAGO NIGHT PICTURE. He came in very late, and while groping about in the dark delivered himself of the following : “(Hig —! (hic) — 1! (hic) — 111” “Are you addressing such language to me, sir ?” demanded his wife from under the bed clothes. “No, m’dear,” he said, ‘I wash speakin’ t’ th’ coal scuttle.” — The Sun. Small Boy: GRANbPA, DON'T YOU THINK MAGGIE MIGHT Do wHaT I WANT HER TO DO? Grandpa: YES, DEAR. Small Boy: 1 WANT HER TO KISS YOU, GRANDPA, WHAT LO YOU WANT NURSE TO DO? CHRISTMAS “Oh Papa and Mamma! Lundborg’s Lundborg’s Lundborg’s Lundborg’s Lundborg’s Rhenish Cologne. Perfume, Perfume, Perfume, Perfume, If you cannot, Bineet, Now = = SS MORNING, How good of you! And you have remembered the Lundborg Perfumes and Cologne that | asked you for, too! Oh! Oh! Oh!" Edenia. Maréchal Niel Rose. Alpine Violet. Lily of the Valley. sho Price Liss tothe muensrarey) YOUNG) EAD COFEN: Ba Barclay comicbooks.com