Life, 1888-06-14 · page 3 of 16
Life — June 14, 1888 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 333 This page contains several humorous short pieces and sketches typical of early Life magazine's satirical format: **"A Love Game"** depicts tennis as romantic competition—a woman consistently beats a man at tennis while he remains emotionally entangled, suggesting he "won" by capturing her attention despite losing matches. **"Wrong Again"** shows a brief domestic scene where a woman mistakes a man's voice for someone named Jack, creating comedic confusion. **"Uncongenial Tastes"** and other brief dialogues present class-based humor contrasting nouveau riche characters ("Jags," "Sniggins") with established society types, poking fun at pretension and social climbing among the wealthy. **"Not What He Wanted"** depicts an artist and patron in a humorous negotiation over portrait enlargement and artistic integrity. These represent Life's typical format: gentle social satire targeting upper-class foibles, romantic misunderstandings, and status anxiety.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WRONG AGAIN. “An! Jack's voice! Be sTILt, MY HEART; HE SERENADES Me!” Ne No, DEAR; IT SOUNDS LIKE HIS VOICE, BUT IT ISN'T. A BLISSFUL EVENING. RS. OVERTHERHINE (of Cincinnati, to daughter, returned from the Thomas Festival): Did you enjoy the music, my dear ? DAUGHTER: It was divine, mamma! _I was in a trance of dreamy enjoyment through the entire exquisite per- formance. MRS. OVERTHERHINE: Aren't you rather late? DAUGHTER: Rather, I fancy, mamma. Mr. Ohlsen in- vited me to Bullwinkle’s for a hot sausage. MITIGATING CIRCUMSTANCES. } AGISTRATE: Under what circumstances, Uncle Rastus, were you induced to violate the law ? UNncLe Rastus: Dey was mitigatin’ circumstances, sah; dat’s what dey was. A LOVE GAME, E played at tennis every day, At first quite free of heart and gay; But as the year crept on towards fall, My heart went bounding with the ball. This tennis net was like a snare ; It caught my soul and held it there ; She beat me every game we played, So far away my thoughts had strayed. And, try my best, each time the same, Uneven score we made—love game ; While flushing with the exercise, Her laughing face mocked at my sighs. And yet I think I well may boast That spite of all I won the most ; While she was winning games from me, I, lucky man, won her, you see. UNCONGENIAL TASTES. ON THE PORCH OF A SUMMER HOTEL, AGGS (¢o new arrival): How delicious the long dreamy J twilight of these summer evenings! New ARRIVAL: H'm! I rather fancy winter the best JacGGs: Indeed! You're in the coal business, I suppose? NEw ARRIVAL: No; gas! HOW SOLOMON GOT LEFT. OICE OF THE AGES: Look not on the wine when it is red! SNiGGtINS: I don’t, old boy; I drink champagne ! NOT WHAT HE WANTED. Artist; Yes, SIR; 1 CAN ENLARGE THIS PHOTOGRAPH, AND GIVE YOU A SPEAKING LIKENESS. Widower (whose knowledge of art terms ts limited;-bat who has a very vivid remembrance of deceased): A SPEAKING LIKENESS! I WOULD LIKE THE PORTRAIT, BUT—BUT I—ER—DON'T CARE TO HAVE IT TALK MUCH. comicbooks.com