Life, 1894-01-11 · page 6 of 14
Life — January 11, 1894 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 22 This page contains a humorous poem titled "A Debutante's Bouquets" by M.D. Hatch, accompanied by four cartoon illustrations showing a woman receiving flowers while confined to what appears to be a sickbed or recovery situation. The satire mocks the social conventions of upper-class courtship rituals. The poem catalogs various floral gifts received from suitors—tulips, jacinths, pinks, jonquils, pansies, and roses—each supposedly sent by different admirers with romantic intentions. The humor lies in the debutante's bedridden predicament making her an ironic object of romantic pursuit, and the excessive formality of flower-sending as a courtship custom among the wealthy. The cartoons illustrate the poem's narrative with exaggerated character reactions, emphasizing the absurdity of the social performance.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“WHAT'S GETTIN’ THE MATTER WID YE? WAKE UP AND SHOW YER ALIVE.” A DEBUTANTE’S BOUQUETS. weer ? Iam as limp as that white glove I've taken off—exquisite, are they not, Massed so? Not one for whom I cared forgot To send to-day the flowers that I love. ‘These gorgeous tulips came from Uncle Jim, That bunch of velvety sweet Jacqueminots Was sent by one of Mamma’s own old beaux ; I wonder if to-day seemed strange to him. Those radiant Beauties, —Ada brought to me. She is the girl I read with twice a week ; We are quite strict about it—if we speak We pay a fine that goes to charity. Claude sent the pinks—you know to me he pours Out all his woes,—a Southern boy at Yale Sent me the Jonquils ; how I love that pale Yellow—he said these grew at home out-doors, The pansies with the single rose were sent By that young artist wanting me to sit For Rosalind ; I’m sure they mean a bit Of weird symbolic tonal sentiment. Dear Daddy sent these fragrant Bonselines,— He hated so this fuss to bring me out. Thought it all nonsense, and I do not doubt It is, when one thinks really what it means. But when I came down stairs to him all dressed He kissed me—patted me upon the head— **God bless my little grown up girl,” he said, And sent his flowers to me with the rest. I wore this bud—and held to match my gown The orchids Mamma brought—how tired one gets. What? Oh, a bunch of Russian violets ? I think—I did not think to bring them down, M.D, Hatch, comicbooks.com