Life, 1894-09-20 · page 7 of 16
Life — September 20, 1894 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 183 from Life Magazine This page contains satirical poems and short humor pieces typical of Life's format. "To My Girl" is a romantic poem humorously listing contingencies—asking if she'd refuse, delay, or accept a proposal. The signature "C.H." appears at the end. Below, "Ready to Believe It" mocks a character (Deacon Sniffles) for voting as he prays—three times daily. The humor suggests hypocrisy or mechanical piety. "Converted, But—" jokes about a young man who lost his hat while coming down from a mourner's bench (a religious conversion site), and a "Dear Girl" asks a persistent suitor if he thinks she'll marry "a freak." "Boomerang" presents a brief exchange about the suitor's claims of not drinking, smoking, or playing cards. The illustrated cartoons show period-appropriate scenes supporting these textual jokes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
183 TO MY GIRL. F I should ask you to be mine, What would you say? Would you my proffered hand decline, And say me nay? Or would you temporize, and say Nor No nor Yes? And have me, tortured by delays, To try to guess ? Or would you tell me Yes to-day, You little flirt, And No to-morrow, just in play, To see it hurt ? Or would you grant me happiness For good and all, And make me earnest answer Yes, Without recall ? I wish you'd tell me, dear, the truth Without a mask ; For if you promise Yes in sooth, Perhaps V'd ask! GC. H. READY TO BELIEVE IT. ILLIS: Deacon Sniffles says he votes as he prays. WALLACE: Very likely; they say he prays three times a day, and I've heard it intimated that he votes fully as often. ATIENT? Doctor, why does whisky make my nose red ? Doctor: ‘It’s because you drink it, sir. LiFe to construe our advocacy of the wheel to mean a desire to introduce among women that which may seem unwomanly and * therefore to be regretted by their warmest friends. I believe that in time a costume will be devised for the bicycle as appropriate as the riding habit is to horseback. On this aspect of the question T have nothing to say save that whatever is fitting is eternally in good taste. Yours truly, ISABEL SOMERSET. CONVERTED, BUT — Scere: Campmectings young man coming down from the mourners bench. NXIOUS FRIEND (grasping him by the hand): \s it well with your soul, brother ? YOUNG MAN (ruefully): Yes, but I've lost my hat. BOOMERANG. HE PERSISTENT SUITOR: I neither drink, smoke, nor play cards ! THE DEAR GIRL: Do you think I’m going to marry a freak ? A DISCONNECTED STORY.