Life, 1894-08-16 · page 3 of 16
Life — August 16, 1894 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page (Volume XXIV, Number 607) The main illustration depicts a monkey or ape sitting on rocks by the seashore, captioned "Howly murderer, Mickey, but how hairy yez have grown by living wid the Nagurs!" This appears to be a racist caricature playing on period stereotypes, with the Irish-accented dialect ("yez," "wid") suggesting commentary on Irish-American attitudes. The page contains three brief satirical items: "To My Alarm Clock" is a humorous poem about oversleeping, "A Police Court" shows a woman character, and "The Tennis Court" features a joke about poor tennis playing. The overall content reflects early 20th-century Life magazine's style: light social satire mixed with crude ethnic humor typical of that era's publication standards.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
VOLUME XxIV. NUMBER 607. * HOWLY MURDHER, MICKEY, BUT HOW HAIRY YEZ HAVE GROWN BY LIVING WID THE NAGURS!" TO MY ALARM CLOCK. ING out. thou tocsin of inquietude, Let thy alarum rend the morning air And tear the day from night! Be thy tones rude And harsh upon mine ear ; and though I swear In voice made thick by somnolence, ring on ! Ring on and curdle sleep —its sweetest hour ! Ring on! At my behest thy duty’s done. But yet a little while, and then thy power Ts wasted, spent ; again thy tongue is still ; Again the welcome silence pays its court Tosleep ; not coy, sleep yields and yields until All's naught and senses unto dreams resort, At last there comes the dread awakening When Time has fled far down into the day. Sans shave, sans breakfast, Lam hastening To catch the train that just now sped away. will be boys, So would the girls, if they could. & POLICE COURT. A REMARKABLE OCCURRENCE. Spectal Despatch to Lire. New York, Aug. 6.—An_ able-bodied gentleman in perfect health, and carrying neither crutch nor cane, was standing yester- day afternoon on the cross walk at the corner of Broadway and Thirty-first street. A Broadway cable-car was approaching at full speed. He signalled to the gripman to stop. The car stopped. THE TENNIS COURT. HE: What do you think of Mr. Martin's playing ? RivaL: I think he is singularly bad in doubles, and doubly bad in singles. os RULY,” said Witticus, when -he saw ox tail soup and tongue on the free lunch counter, “extremes meat.”