Life, 1895-01-17 · page 3 of 16
Life — January 17, 1895 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Composer's Reward" - Life Magazine Satire This page features a domestic comedy sketch and an accompanying poem. The illustration shows a man departing hastily while two women remain at home—one seated, one standing in the background. The dialogue's humor relies on a common Victorian-era marital scenario: the husband claims he must leave to meet his wife's sister at the station, but the wife suspects he's fabricating an excuse to escape. Her retort—that if he meets her sister in public, he needn't kiss her—is a pointed jab at his dubious explanation. The poem "The Composer's Reward" (credited to Ernest Delaney Pierson) humorously narrates a minstrel musician ransoming himself from captors by performing music so beautifully that even brigands weep and release him. Both pieces appear to be light satirical commentary on domestic life and artistic sentiment typical of early 20th-century American humor magazines.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
WELL, I MUsT BE OFF. Gor NUMBER 629. Faapucuncauvasvanseucess LT ‘SEEOURULNN TANGA TUCANNDN G TO THE STATION TO MEET MY WIFE'S ELDEST SISTER BUT SHE CAN FIND HER WAY TO YOUR HOUSE. SHF CAN, ction ¢ - = — But if I MEET HER IN PUBLIC I WON'T HAVE TO KISS HER. RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO R. DE k. NTILthy ransom comes to hand,” In awful voice quoth the bold brigand, As he fingered his dagger keen, “Minstrel, divert these men of mine ; Pipe thou some paltry piece of thine, Oh, man of meagre mien. Prove us that thou deservest thy fame As spinner of songs, or, Blood and Flame! Thou'lt lose thy ears I ween!" THE COMPOSER'S REWARD. TO BE SUNG TO THE AIR OF ‘‘STEAL, STEAL AWAY.” So the captive took up his instrument And blew a blithesome air that sent A smile o'er each fearsome face, And loosed his bonds and regretfully Said *' Brother, ah, one indeed are we, Pardon this late release, No war we wage against our kind, Thou art a minstrel to suit our mind, May thy thieving tribe increase. For thou stealest tunes as cleverly, As any cut-purse could care to see, So go thy way in peace !" Ernest Delancey Pierson. And the brigands looked in each others eyes, And exchanged remarks in profane sur- prise, While their interest grew apace. The grin was gracious their chieftain wore, And when the minstrel’s tune was o'er, He drew him in close embrace. comicbooks.com