Life, 1895-08-08 · page 11 of 14
Life — August 8, 1895 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis: Life Magazine, p. 91 This page contains a fictional narrative by Richard Stillman Powell about social awkwardness, illustrated with six cartoon vignettes showing people with bicycles and top hats. The main narrative concerns a character explaining to "Polly" why she has a headache—apparently caused by the narrator's polite conversation with other girls at a social gathering. The humor stems from the narrator's oblivious, self-absorbed logic: he assumes Polly is jealous, when actually she simply has a headache from an earlier event unrelated to him. The cartoons appear to illustrate various scenarios involving bicycles and gentlemen in formal dress, likely depicting the social mishaps and misunderstandings referenced in the text. The bottom section includes a separate joke about a Sunday school teacher and a boy named Tommy skipping lessons to go fishing.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
*LIFE- and my courage failed me. No one, I am sure, would have ventured on the tiniest bit of familiar- ity with Polly at that mo- ment. I looked ‘at her in undisguised admira- tion, She allowed her gaze to settle on me a moment. In that gaze there was nothing to be hoped for. I resolved on desperate measures. I relighted my cigar. “TL wish you wouldn't,” said Polly. “Wouldn't what?" I ventured, calmly. “ Wouldn't sit there and look at me in that stupid way. and it makes me nervous.” “ What have I done?" Again the look of wide-eyed surprise. “You? I don’t understand.” “Let me explain. You have a headache. You have had them before. The last time you had a headache, when I was present, was at the Scott's. 1, in a very laudable endeavor to be polite, spent a portion of the evening in talking to that little Morris girl. Of course the conversation was such as anyone might have heard, but—and mark the coincidence, please—you had a headache going home. Now to-night there have been present two more or less stupid girls. I talked to them—both of them. I didn’t do it for It isn’t polite, pleasure, but because they were your guests and it was the correct thing to do. And now—you have a headache. There are the facts; draw your own conclusions.” I settled back in my chair very well satisfied with my state- ment of the case. Polly viewed me disdainfully. “The idea! Just as though I cared whether you-talked to Annie Morris at the Scott's! You flatter yourself too much in supposing that I would get jealous of anyone. I'm sure you are quite welcome to talk to whom you please; and as for those silly, spiteful Anson girls who were here to-night, you can talk to them forever for all I care, and very welcome. Only, I'm sure it isn’t very nice to sit all the evening and not have you say a single word to me, and sce that nasty Lilly Anson looking at you and her sister and thinking horrid things and—and: “ But, Polly——” I remonstrated. * And telling everyone to-morrow that you and I have had a quarrel and—and—all that. Not that I care a fig, but I won't have them saying nasty things. So The worst was over. “ Now let me explain" “ Of course, I know I’m stupid——” “Nota bit!” “And not as nice to talk to as—as other girls, but——" “A great deal nicer!" “ But I have some feelings,” declared Polly dolefully. . . . * “IT wonder you can like me at all; I'm so mean!" moaned Polly. “Not a bit, dear.” I felt a stubborn nod in the region of my cigar- case. ‘How's the headache?" I asked innocently. She raised her head and looked at me wonderingly. “What headache?” said Polly. Richard Stillman Powell. IT MAKES SUCH A DIFFERENCE WHO DOES IT. AN INDUCEMENT. UNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER: You knew your lesson perfectly this time, Tommy. Tommy: Yes'm. Pa said he'd let me go fishing this afternoon if I didn’t miss any of it. comicbooks.com