Life, 1888-01-12 · page 12 of 16
Life — January 12, 1888 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Life Magazine Page 26 - Content Analysis This page contains several satirical pieces typical of the era: **"Only Terror Could Bleauchamp"** is a nonsense poem mocking poor rhyming—the word "Beauchamp" is forced to rhyme with itself through creative misspellings. **"A Hopeful Outlook"** satirizes the proliferation of authors. It jokes that soon *everyone* will have written a book, creating a crisis politicians must address. The implication: too many mediocre writers flooding the market. **"An Explanation"** is a joke about a waiter's malapropism—"dressing" (salad dressing) sounds like "dressin'" (clothing), explaining a trouser button in the salad. **"Winter in the Country"** depicts a rural wife frantically rushing her husband to catch a train. **"A Coming Humorist"** mocks Columbia College's plan to erect a "colossal statue of a high hat" as a class memorial. Life sarcastically suggests this Columbia graduate might become a great humorist, comparing him to Mark Twain and Bill Nye, while poking fun at Chauncey Depew's accident.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
26 ONLY TERROR COULD BLEAU- CHAMP. HE girls of the family Beauchamp Had a governess aged to Teauchamp, Who, shaking her haid, Had repeatedly said ‘That nothing but flogging would Reauchamp. A HOPEFUL OUTLOOK. [* the matter of International copyright, we think we see a glimmer of hope for the author in a direction which many have bewailed. It is related of a visitor to Boston to whom the celebrities of the town were being pointed out, as they passed in and out of a restau- rant, that seeing a small headed, broad shoul- dered youth enter, he asked, “And who is he?” “That,” was the response “is the man who hasn't written a book.” We are fast getting to the point in our literary development where every able-bodied voter has written a book, and if our politi- cians do not hurry up and attend to the needs of this much abused and rapidly grow- ing class, they will find the glacial period warm alongside of the future which awaits them. AN EXPLANATION. “cc S here, waiter, how is it that I find a trousers button in this salad ?” “Dat am a part of de dressin’, sah.” ENOUGH. “Dip you ¢ \YTHING FOR THE HOLIDAYS, BILLY ?” “Yes, Dap GIV? ME TWO LICKINS, AN’ I DIDN'T HANG UP NO STOCKIN’ FOR THEM NEITHER!" WINTER IN THE COUNTRY. Two miles to the R.R. Station. Wife (in the distance): HURRY UP, CHARLIE, YOU'VE ONLY GOT FIVE MINUTES TO CATCH THE TRAIN IN! A COMING HUMORIST. ARK TWAIN, Bill Nye, and others, must look to their laurels. There is a humorist about to be thrust upon the world, with an A.B., from Columbia College, if the following paragraph from the 77mes is veracious. “ The Senior Class of Columbia College yesterday discussed plans for a memorial to be presented to the college on their graduation. One suggestion was to present $500 on gradua- tion, and $100 yearly for five years for a fund, the interest of which shall be devoted to prizes at annual oratorical competi- tions of members of the Junior Classes ; another plan was to place a colossal statue of a high hat on the campus.” We are filled with hope. Lawyers, doctors, clergymen and brokers are graduated without number every year— humorists come rarely, and we intend to keep-an eye.upon this “high-hat” man. He will amount to something; who knows but that fifty years hence he may be able to make people laugh by simply walking to the front of a platform, and send his audience into convulsive laughter by announc- ing the death of his dearest friend. Stranger things have happened, and are happening every day. It is stated that the Pofe’s Life is selling largely in the West as the comic chef d’ouvre of the season, because its publisher is a partner of Mark Twain; and it is rumored about town that three young ladies of Peekskill grew hysterical with laughter. when they saw Chauncey Depew sprain his neck by falling on a small boy’s slide. comicbooks.com