Life — February 17, 1887 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

HE THOUGHT SO TOO. HERE had been wet weather at Windsor Castle for two weeks, and Her Majesty, walking to the window, remarked: “ What a long rain we're having!” “Yes,” said the Prince of Wales, sadly, “I don’t think you'll get out for some time.” And then Her Majesty looked | at him as if she suspected him of a little too much double entendreness. | * * * BOSTON scientist is fully convinced that the Garden of Eden was located at the North Pole. If he is right, it is not wonderful that Adam and Eve had an innate hankering after warmer clothing than they had at first. * * * BALLET GIRL was recently arrested for vagrancy, but was discharged on the testimony of one of her audience concerning her visible means of support. * * * T is a’peculiar thing that in spite of state prejudices there is as much water in Kentucky corporations as in any other. A BATCH OF INTERCEPTED VALENTINES. T was late St. Valentine's Eve when a low, gurgling sound, some- what similar to the song of a canary with a cherry-pit in his throat, | announced the coming of the postman. The flagging thud of his feet, climbed to the portals of LiFe, told too truly that the xhausted, and that he should stagger into the office ng over the waste-basket occasioned no surprise in the poor minion and fall fain editorial circle. It is a cast-iron rule of our office to relieve persons in distress when it is possible, so we relieved this weary postman of his letters, and gently, but firmly, dropped him into the street. Among the documents thus acquired were certain ones which we feel it our duty to forward to their destination, and knowing no better way of reaching the persons addressed than through our own columns, we have ventured to make use of them. The first, dated Paris, was | directed to Chancellor Bismarck, and consisted of a portrait of the Goddess of Liberty drinking v2 ordinaire with the Prussian Eagle, as a symbol of eternal friendship, and the subjoined lines : Oh, Chancellor Bizzy, sweet god of the Rhine, Don't think Za Belle France quite lacking in spine, Because just this moment she doesn’t incline To enter with spirit your little combine ; Rest tranquil, sweet Bizzy, a year or two more, Then Johnny Crapaud will quite enjoy war, And for your galorious Teuton Empire, Will gladly assist in providing the dier. Iam yours to command, from my toes to my hair, Boutancer, of Paris, Ministre de la Guerre. Following this was a handsome paper-lace affair representing the Czar of Russia flying through space with a torpedo in tow. The ! following poem was printed in red letters over an allegorical chromo of the hereafter in green and yellow : Ta-ta, O Caar, Despot of the Russias ; Thro’ space Apace This bomb your highness ushers. When you get back, I opine, You will be my Valentine. Here I set my seal and fist, SKYHIVITZKY, Nihilist. The third was addressed to Queen Victoria, Windsor Castle. It bore symptoms of the Prince of Wales's composition, and yet its authorship is open to question. It read: A HINT. ‘There was an old lady benign, For fifty odd years did recline On a big gilded throne, And, begobs, be it known That ‘tis time the old gal did resign. Whether this is a valentine from the Prince, or another Irish out- rage, we prefer to leave to the general public. The next epistle consisted of a little green laureate holding a blue pen marked ‘ Pessimism” in his hand, combating with a purple giant labeled ‘ Progress,” beneath which were the following lines : Upward, downward, downward, upward, beating in and 'bout the stump ; | See the poet, with his pencil, giving Progress many a thump. It is natural that the second blast from out the poet’s pen, Should be rankly pessimistic while ‘twas optimistic when He was young, for then he had some thing to look to up on high, Which was far above his station, far as earth is from the sky. He could toady and be happy, looking up to lords and earls, He could write the poems that would suit the critics and the girls. Now the poet has grown older, and he wears a noble’s clothes, And as suited to his station, up Lord Alfred turns his nose. A cry of joy was permitted to escape the lips of the political editor when these lines fo the President were brought to light : "Tis said in parts, dear Mr. C., Your policy is strong, Whereas in others there are those Who say that you are wrong ; But one thing's certain; when from place Rank partisans you vote, oh ‘Then your method’s a success In toe-toe. Unfortunately for the public and the individuals directly concerned, a political discussion here arose which not only put an end to the ses- sion, but had a similar effect upon two editors and a large package of valentines which still remained unopened. Geo, W. Me. comicbooks.com