Life — June 5, 1890 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

*LIFE: Once I passed inside her guard, Armor none the spot defending ; Her heart I touched unwitting hard, But mine was wounded past all mending, So the game of love or sport, I must lose, a luckless sinner; Her feeble overthrows my forte, And Kitty always comes out winner. Touché, CULTURE VS. CHEEK. —CENE: A corner ina Murray Hill drawing-room. CHARACTERS: Mss Bunker, a lady from the classic corridors of Boston. Mr, Golightly, a gentleman from the wind- swept boulevards of Chicago. Time: Evening. Miss Bunker (with a refined smite): Charming evening, isn’t it? Mr. Golightly : 0.1 didn’t notice anything about the even- ing, except that it was not raining. Miss B.: But the moon—so exceptionally tine. Mr. G.: O, yes; of course. Fine moon! Do you know, the finest moon I ever saw was one we used in some amateur theatricals out in Chicago—our club, you know. it out of the bottom of a lard can. for almost anything. Méss B.: O, you have been interested in amateur theatri- cals, have you? I knew you were intellectually inclined. Do you like poetry ? Mr. G.: Oh! some kinds. Miss B.: Of course, not all kinds. style of poetry now. it? Mr. G. (toying nervously with moustache): Ves, very. Let's see; he was a relative of yours, wasn’t he ? Miss B. (embarrassed) : Ob, no! Do you—do you know where they are going to bury him ? Mr. G. (making a desperate guess, consummate sang- Srotd): \n Chicago, I ¢Aenk, At least, that’s what I heard. Miss B.: Indeed? That's singular, It must be so differ- ent there from his beloved Venice. Mr. G. (bluffing manfully) :.O, not so very different. Miss B. (suspiciously): Have you read much of Brown- ing's poetry ? We made Nothing like a lard can No one reads the old Sad death, that of Browning's, wasn't Mr, G. (nonchalantly): O, 1 used to read a good deal of it when I was a boy; but one soon outgrows him, don’t you know, Of late I haven't been reading much poetry, except what I see in Truck. Elegant poetry in 7ruck, don't you think ? Miss B.s O, very. Mr. G. (becoming enthustastic) : \ remember a thing they had last month, called “ A Kiss in the Kitchen.” Afiss B. (sarcastically) : Must have been something like Browning's “ Love in a Balcony,” I suppose. Mr, G.: Just about the same, only better. Browning got his start, writing for 7ruck, him, He used to do the That's where They made “There was a young man from Madrid" kind of work for them. Ten cents a line. Good pay, too. Afiss B.: Really, Mr. Golightly, are you not mistaken in the man? Mr, G.: O, leant be. Father used to know him well. Loaned him five dollars once. Browning never paid it. But I must go, Miss B.: Must you go? Mr. G.: O, | must, indeed. I'll send you the copy of Truck containing that “ Kiss in the Kitchen.” I am sure you will like it. Beats Browning all hollow. Good even- ing. Miss B.: Good evening. Tom Hall, ON THE LIMITED TRAIN. >HE: 1 feel very uncomfortable. +7 He: That's because you eat too fast. SH Oh, my dear! HE: Why, I just saw you eating at the rate of forty miles an hour, . PERSONAL. M.S.Q.: Why don't you speak? This silence is killing me. comicbooks.com