Life — March 26, 1896 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

“LIFE: TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. T was during that sacred hour between daylight and dusk, when the boy loves to come to his mother’s knee and whisper those sweet confidences that exist only between mother and son, The room itself had not been lighted, and yet in the dim atmosphere the richness of the furnishings, the luxurious tone, the costly pictures and drapings could plainly be felt. “Mother,” said the youth, his thin, careworn face indicating that the canker of some hitherto. concealed trouble was him. “Mother, the son of the butcher who lives two blocks away wanted to fight me to-day, but I did not dare risk your displeasure, although 1 added with a smile, “that I could have licked him.” “You were right, dear,” his mother re- plied. “You do well to turn your back on the vulgar.” consuming ams sure,” he “JAMES, PUT SOME FAT WITH MRS. LoNGJOHN’S RIBS.” + Some boys in the next ward wanted me to play with them. Was I right in refusing ?" he asked. Entirely so, my son," replied his par- ent.“ Itill becomes one of your position to mingle with the base herd.” “The circus is coming next week," said the boy, his voice turgid with melancholy. “It would not be advisable, would it, mamma dear, for me to go with some other boys and get fifty-cent seats and eat peanutsand shout?” “Most assuredly not,” was the reply. “A box will be engaged, and I will have your tutor accompany you and instruct you about the ptoper and formal way to applaud.” here wasa brief pause, and then the boy said : “ Mother, papaisa very rich man, isn’t be?” “Yes, dear.” “Isn't he a millionaire, mother ?” “Yes, my son.” A faint and sickly smile illuminated the face of the youthful ques- tioner, while a ray of that sublime hope that sometimes comes into the hearts of the wealthiest ones shone in his pale blue eye “Do you know, mother,” he said, a vision of freedom, where all things are level, coming to him suddenly, ‘‘do you know I some- times wish that papa’would lose every d—d cent he had.” Allison Fox, } R. GEORGE GOULD is very anxious to live in New York, but feels that he cannot afford to pay the taxes on the $10,090,000 worth of property that he is supposed to hold in'this city. Why not pass around the hat and chip in for George? It is a great pity to allow a few paltry thousands to stand between us and such a gen- erous and public-spirited en. IRST EDITOR: I hear the new book reviewer has been bounced. Second Epiror: He was discovered cutting the leaves of some of the best books. comicbooks.com