Life, 1894-12-06 · page 9 of 16
Life — December 6, 1894 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 367 **Top Section - "The Fin de Siècle Angel":** This is a whimsical illustrated poem about a modern angel playing a harp. The satire mocks contemporary "latest style" fashions and the pretentiousness of 1890s society, with the angel described as stirring "the saints so madly" and raising "their halos gladly." It's gentle social satire on fin-de-siècle affectation. **Bottom Section - "A Fair Description":** This story satirizes a Republican congressional candidate who accidentally predicted the election outcome while being misquoted in newspapers. The narrative follows two boys, Tom and Bill, discovering a railroad and hobo life. The humor derives from political miscommunication and the ironic consequences of media misrepresentation—a common Life magazine target. The brief dialogue at page's end ("Little Willie") appears to be filler humor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE FIN DE SIECLE ANGEL. ER harp is of the newest make : The things she likes to play Make even Peter's sides to shake. Whene’er she flies his way. Her wings are of the latest style, Her halo’s quite the thing, Her laughing eyes an answering smile From all the choir bring. A FAIR DESCRIPTION. ECENTLY a very enthusiastic Republican candidate for Congress, in endeavoring to show his hearers that he had unknowingly predicted the outcome of the last election, by being misquoted in the papers, told this story: On Sand Mountain, in the northern part of Alabama, dwells a class of people who know very little of the outside world, and a great many of the young men never leave the farm until they have reached manhood. Tom and Bill were of this class, and upon their twenty-first birthday resolved to go to Chattanooga and see the sights. Early in the morning they started on foot, and at about four in the afternoon reached the track of the A. . R. R. just north of Collins- ville. “ This ‘ere must be arailroad shoo nuff,” exclaimed Tom, “fur I done seed pichers look ‘zactly like this in ther almack.” “Yes,” says Bill, “ but whar’s them steam-cars.” “ Dunno,” was the reply, “ but let’s walk ‘long this ‘ere road and maybee we done found some.” Up the track towards Chattanooga they started. They walked until dark without finding any “ steam-cars” or And, when she flies the golden street, She stirs the saints so madly They always haste across to meet And raise their halos gladly. reaching a town, and being tired out, they decided to lie down by the side of the track and wait until morning, which they did, and soon fell asleep. About midnight the through express came thundering along, and as she struck the grade, just ahead of where the boys had camped for the night, the engineer put on all steam and the fireman threw the coal. into her as fast as he could handle the shovel; the great head-light flashed, the sparks rolled out of her stack in clouds, while the fire flew from her wheels as they slipped on the heavy grade. ‘As she went tearing by, Tom awoke and, sitting bolt upright with his eyes bulging from his head, gave Biil a kick and cried “ Bill, Bill, for God sake wake up ; the'r movin’ hell and the first load has just gone by.” “The train,” continued the Congressman, “was loaded with Democratic delegates for the State Convention.” ITTLE WILLIE: I was going fishing Sunday, but my papa wouldn't let me. REV. DR. SAINTLY: That's the right kind of a papa to have. Did he tell you the reason why ? WILLIE: Yessir. He said there wasn’t bait enough for two,