Life, 1888-02-16 · page 13 of 20
Life — February 16, 1888 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Political Satire: Queen Victoria and Irish Discontent This Life magazine page satirizes Queen Victoria receiving Valentine's Day messages. The top comic strip shows a character with an obsessive "idea" he buries—a metaphor for Irish nationalist sentiment being suppressed. The text presents three Valentine messages to the Queen: a sentimental American one (referencing James Russell Schenck), an **Irish message in dialect** complaining that while other saints (St. George, St. Taffy/Wales, St. Andrew/Scotland) received royal favor, "Pat" (Ireland) received only "tyrannic laws to squeeze his purse." The Irish sender ironically promises to "keep" the Queen's memory alive by burying the idea carefully. A third absurdist message from "Old-Man-Benzine" (unclear reference, possibly mocking Western American culture) adds comic confusion. **The satire's point:** Ireland's grievances are real but politely buried beneath comic absurdity. The ending—declaring St. Valentine's Day illegal in Irish districts—darkly jokes that suppressing celebration means suppressing Irish expression itself.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
At last! He works energetically all day. The next bore the postmark of the United States. Dear Madam, you must know well, That in this land far o’er the sea The faithful mind doth turn to thee, Apart from thee naught seems to go well ; And on this feast of Valentine Our hearts are England’s, Scotland's, thine, Particularly that of J. R.—Oh, well. You know. “But I don’t know,” said Her Majesty, with a bewildered look, which was dispelled, however, when the Lord Chamberlain whispered in her ear, and with a pleased smile, she added : ‘Dear, old James Russell Schenck, how could I forget! “A valentine from Dublin,” announced the Lord Peruser. Arrah, thin, me Quane! On your Jubilee, What bedad, did’st deign To do for me? St. George, who slew the dragon, To him, you drained the flagon ; St. Taffy, down in Wales, Came in for his wassails ; And for long-faced St. Andy, There was full share of brandy ; For Pat thoud’st nothing—or, even worse, Tyrannic laws to squeeze his purse. Well, Pat forgives, and when the worm hath turned, And you and yours by all are spurned, He carries the “idea” into the And buries it in a carefully garden. chosen spot, Thou need’st not want for home nor store, For thee we'll keep our Tullamore. “Send for Balfour,” commanded Her Majesty with a queenly frown, ‘and have the dastard villain who dared thus mar our pleasure placed in solitary confinement.” “With a copy of Leaves, Your Majesty ?” queried Battenberg un- thinkingly. “Next!” roared the Queen, happily ignoring the question. And the Lord Chamberlain, with a trembling voice, read the fol- lowing : # Ugh! Lovely white-face squaw ; Me like big-girl, called Queen, Offer my paw. Old-Man-Benzine, Big Chief with Bill Buffalo, Wild West Show. But Her Majesty was too much perturbed by the Irish Message to continue to be gracious, and adjourned the meeting without giving any official intimation as to whether she would accept Old- Man's proposal, and even so far forgot herself as to fail to invite the Chum to remain to breakfast next morning, but with his native modesty and ability to adapt himself to circumstances, the Chum re- mained, slept comfortably on the throne, and as far as the breakfast was concerned, managed to get there just the same. By a decree of Her Majesty, St. Valentine Day is to be an illegal holiday, hereafter, in the proclaimed districts of Ireland. Carlyle Smith. To 1-30 p.m. To 1-40 p.m. comicbooks.com