Life — January 3, 1889 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

A CHRISTMAS DINNER. TO a little nigger, A’swimming in the Nile, Appeared, quite unexpectedly, A hungry crocodile, Who, with that chill politeness That makes the warm blood freeze, Remarked : ‘‘I’ll take some dark meat Without dressing, if you please !” * * * T is rumored that the reason that Elliott F. Shepard is laboring to have the Agricultural Bureau made a De- partment, with its head a member of the Cabinet, is in order that the culture of the thistle may be promoted with a view to its consumption, as a staple, by animals whose tastes and disposition are similar to those of the editor of the Mail and Express. * * * T is rumored that the Democratic party has blown out the gas and gone to bed. * * * TERRIBLE blow has fallen upon the jeunesse dorée. .The police have de- cided not to allow the masquerade balls of the winter to proceed with the usual gaiety and abandon, because Mr. Edmund C. Stan- ton will not allow the Metropolitan Opera House, where the revelry is to be held, to become the scene for a Bacchanalian orgi and what are our gilded youth going to do about it? The time was when they were allowed to witness and participate in the gaiety that is to be found where there are masquerade costumes and no chaperons, and the only result was that many youths were sorry for it, as they drank ice-water at three o'clock break- fast the next day. And, really, let a dude drink enough at one of these balls, and it would be hard to convince him that he is not having a good time. Nevertheless, as it makes much additional work for the police in shipping the flower of our manhood home on these occasions, it is, perhaps, just as well that the enthusiasm should be abridged. * * * DAILY paper, not long ago, had an article headed “Terrible Hardships at Sea.” It referred to that part of the United States Navy on its way to Hayti, probably. * * * RESIDENT-ELECT HARRISON'S pathway is strewn with flowers—forget-me-nots. HIS incident, which we reprint from the New York Times, points so many morals that we publish it for the benefit of our readers, who are not in the habit of giving away their money as fast as they earn it: “Hello, Stumpy,” said one gamin as he met another, “have yer fed yet?” “Naw,” replied Stumpy, ‘I guess dis is de eve I don’t eat.” “No coin ?” asked the other. “Nixey red,” was the response. ‘I owed Gimpey fourteen cents and paid him so’s ’e could git some shoes.” “How's yer appetite ?” was the next query. ‘* Oh, dere’s never any trouble on dat line,” was the laconic reponse, “Well, Stump,” said the little fellow, ‘‘I tell yer. I got twenty cents, and I was going to have a scrumptious feed; but I reckin I'll have to let Del's slide ter-night. Let's adjourn ter de beanery.”” He took Stump’s arm, and the two walked off. The beauty of the act was that it was done without the least condescension, but with a frank I-may-be-there-myself-some-day air that was delightful. * * * MERICAN ladies will do well, hereafter, to leave their revolvers at home when they visit Europe. Mrs. Gallagher, of this city, has just been fined two pun’ ten in Queenstown because some loose cartridges were found in her pocket upon her arrival on the Umérza, It is said that Mr. Gallagher let her go, but it is not definitely known whether he was cognizant of the fact that she went armed. * * * R. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW has been provided with- a glass leg. It does not reflect credit upon the enterprise of the dime museum talent that he has not received an offer to exhibit himself. What with his reputa- tion as an after-dinner speaker amd a glass leg he would prove an irresistible attraction. * * * EXT we shall hear of a detective getting killed in order to convict somebody of murder. One of these gentry has just had a tooth filled by a dentist who practiced without a license in order that he might testify against him. We would like to fill a detective’s tooth who was trying to convict us of something if we knew it at the time. THE WIDOW'S SMITE. comicbooks.com