Life, 1889-07-04 · page 12 of 20
Life — July 4, 1889 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page This page contains two satirical pieces: **"A Little Scheme for Fooling Bears"** (top cartoons): The text references an old saying about illusion—things aren't what they seem. The phrase "cold roast veal of yesterday is chicken salad to-day" suggests deception and repackaging, likely a general commentary on fraud or misrepresentation rather than a specific political reference. **"A Saint of the Avenue"** (main dialogue): St. Peter interrogates a wealthy woman ("tailor-made girl," member of the "Four Hundred"—high society) applying for heaven entry. The satire mocks how she gains admission by claiming charitable work despite her extravagant lifestyle. St. Peter suggests she typically exploited seamstresses, but she counters that she actually employed and supported poor needlewomen—a sardonic commentary on wealthy women's selective charity and self-justification. The piece satirizes both class privilege and how the wealthy rationalize their behavior through modest philanthropic acts. **Bottom joke**: Two amateur photographers struggle to photograph an old mill that won't stay still—a simple visual gag about persistence and frustration.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- LIFE: A LITTLE SCHEME FOR FOOLING BEARS AND HOW IT WORKED. ILLUSION. HINGS are never what they seem, I've heard philosophers say, And the cold roast veal of yesterday Is chicken salad to-day. A SAINT OF THE AVENUE. HE APPLICANT (ézmzdly): Please let me in? St. PETER (opening the gate): And who are you? APPLICANT: A tailor-made girl. St. PETER (half shutting it): Did you belong to the Four Hundred ? APPLICANT (reluctantly): Yes. St, PETER (shutting tt a little more): Rich and beautiful? APPLICANT (stz// more reluctantly): So the papers said. St. PETER (leaving only a crack): H’m, how came you here? APPLICANT: A sudden cold and pneumonia.— St. PETER: Yes, I know. I suppose you took cold at a ball? APPLICANT: No, at a charity fair; the flower-table was in a draught. ST, PETER: Why didn’t you leave? APPLICANT: Oh, I could not. I had promised to serve. ST. PETER (opening the gate a hand's breadth): You were very extravagant, I suppose ? APPLICANT (s/ow/ly) : I spent a good deal of money; but we were rich, and papa said it was a good thing to keep money going. St. PETER (adsent mindedly): Has your papa been can- onized? But I digress. To return (stermly), of course you oppressed the poor needle-worker and put off paying the lovely starving seamstress, while you trailed through the mazy dance the silken robe, into every seam of which she had stitched her woman's heart—or words to that effect ? APPLICANT (wonderingly): Oh, no, indeed! Like many other girls in my set I have successfully established more than one skillful but unrecognized needlewoman by giving them work and telling right and left whom I employed. St. PETER (showing his head now in the opening) : you ever go to church on a rainy Sunday? Did IRST AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER: You've been fifteen minutes, Fred (Ac), trying to take that old mill, SECOND AMATEUR: I know it (Az), Gush; but—er—I can't make dufn thing (/7c) shtan’ still ! r ra comicbooks.com