Life — February 13, 1896 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

114 AN UNPOETICAL VALENTINE. po heoceunmeaans this lyrical Valentine venture Needs no satirical Sort of a censure ; If it's no rhyme, it is Love which is reason, And at this time it is Quite in the season. You are the only one I seem to care for; lama lonely one, Sweetheart, and therefore This valentine—it goes ing, I like you. If you'll be mine, it goes ! How does that strike you? APPROPRIATE SENTIMENT. RIVVET: If Harrison and Cleve- land had happened to be oppos- ing candidates again, I know one motto upon which both could agree. Dicer: What is it? “Life is one grand, sweet song.” THE MAGIC PALM. > LIFE: WHEN YOUR IRRESPONSIBLE FRIEND GETS MARRIED. ‘OR some time you have noticed that your usually incorrigibly cheerful friend— the terribly irresponsible fellow—has not been quite himself. He's been too subdued. His demeanor in the club, your most common meeting ground, has been like that of a disappointed shade. He can't see the point to any story you may tell him, Finally, in a burst of confidence, he tells you that he is going to be married. Then and thenceforth, he is positively mournful. One mht think he was making preparations for an immediately impending judgment day. Having been married yourself, you are approached by your friend, during his last week of bachelorhood, something after this fashion : “Say, Harry, when you were dying to get married, you know, and were just going to, did you feel as though you didn’t much care | what happened you—kind of all broken up, you know—not blue exactly, but awfully queer 2” “Yes.” ** How long does that last ?” “Oh, it'll begin to wear off when your wife and you are fairly started away, after your wife's mother has shed a large number of tears over her lost daughter, before your obtrusive gaze, and after you are entirely through with listening to a lot of strangely unfamiliar conventionalities from your friends at the wedding.” On his wedding day your friend is gloomy enough. One would think by his appearance during the ceremony that the minister's words # were an address to a jury of saints to convict the man before them—your irresponsible friend—of something at least as bad as mur- der. You are slightly relieved when at the end of the month you meet your friend on the street and he hails you robustly. Still, he's not thoroughly himself. Nor is he for a year or two. But, finally, he appears at the club. “What's up 2” you feel impelled to say. othing.” Tisn't often you're here of an evening, you know,” you observe, apologetically. Came out to-night to think things over. ’s yelling blue murder in five languages, and all the women busy with him,” says your friend, with an attempt at nonchalance. Then you know that your irresponsible friend is getting emancipated. After that he’s with you oftener. HE evil that men do often lives after them—in their New York monuments. A POSSIBLE OPPORTUNITY. ILLIE: I know sister would be glad to go skating with you. Rincway: What makes you think so? “She says she has been dying all winter to have you break the ice.””