Life, 1888-12-27 · page 27 of 43
Life — December 27, 1888 — page 27: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a sentimental poem by I. Forster Jenkins accompanying a sketch of a man gazing at a portrait of a woman from a century past. The poem's conceit is that the subject is the speaker's grandmother, and he addresses her image directly, curious about her life, loves, and experiences. The satire is gentle: the speaker notes modern life has "many things" the past lacked, yet paradoxically admits he might have preferred living then. This reflects late-19th/early-20th-century nostalgia—romanticizing the past while acknowledging progress. The illustration shows a fashionably-dressed Victorian-era gentleman contemplating the portrait with a wistful expression, emphasizing the piece's theme of generational reflection and the persistent human tendency to idealize history.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Gs er f LINES TO An fi ‘OLD PORTRAIT: } t h ——~ HY is it that your pretty lips Are parted in that merry smile? Why hide your dainty finger-tips Within that ugly muff meanwhile? “Tis strange in booking on your face For modern man like me, to know He's gazing at his grandmamma, Who lived one hundred years ago. Suppose, while you sit smiling there, You tell me, as I'd like you to, ‘The thought that still from year to year So pleases and amuses you. Or, better, tell me of your life— Its joys and laughter, tears and woe; T think they must have had them then As now, one hundred years ago. 'Twould be a pleasant thing to hear You tell of all that happened then, About your lovers and your friends Among that ancient race of men. We've many things that you had not, But, after all, I do not know— I think / should have liked it then: You lived one hundred years ago, I. Forster Jenkins. comicbooks.com