Life, 1896-06-04 · page 8 of 20
Life — June 4, 1896 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis This page contains two sections: conversational anecdotes and a satirical piece titled "The Herald's Mistake." The main cartoon criticizes the *New York Herald* newspaper for offering a prize to a gripman (streetcar operator) who could conduct one of Broadway's Chambers of Horrors around a curve at 53rd Street. The satire mocks the Herald's dangerous contest proposal. President Vroeland apparently refused to endorse it, arguing such a competition would encourage reckless conduct and risk lives. The text suggests the Herald's idea was absurdly unsafe—turning a streetcar operation into a spectacle that prioritized sensationalism over public safety. The bottom cartoon depicts two figures in what appears to be a conversation about charity or misfortune, with social commentary on class and desperation.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
** Their mother said that they went out with it only when ordered, and that they had far more fun out of their old goat-cart,.”” answered Adrian. “There is some hope for those children yet !” exclaimed Diana. ** They have realized that a perfectly appointed four- in-hand can never be anything else; but that a rickety old goat-cart can be anything under the sun—from the gor- geously gilded band-wagon of a circus to an ocean steam- ship with Billy’s horns for smoke-stacks. I would not exchange the voyages | have taken in a goat-cart for all that my steam-yacht has brought me.” ‘That is one of the things about you that more than half pleases me,” said Adrian, patronizingly. ‘* With a yacht pulling at her anchor chains in the harbor, and forty men to do your bidding, you prefer to ride thirty miles through dust and sun on a tandem!” ‘Another case of goat-cart,’’ laughed wasn't the Saw-mill River road and the dust and grime for me; from Neperhan to Elmsford I was a Bedouin chief, chasing across the desert on a camel. The low-banked clouds were caravans; the little lake was a mirage; the way-side spring where we stopped to drink by the horse- trough was an oasis. The lays of Bayard Taylor and Tom Moore were singing in my ears, and the canvases of Fortuny flashed before my eyes like brilliant tropic birds.” ‘And poor little me!" jibed Adrian—* I who pushed so hard on the hills—what part had I in your dreaming?” “Oh, you were an Abyssinian slave whom I bought in the market of Khartoum to be my camel driver, and pitch my tent, and wave my great fan of ostrich feathers Diana. “It when I stopped at midday for food.” “That is always your idea of a man,” sighed Adrian. “Some day you will wake up and find that desert and slave have vanished like a mirage.” “Till then I shall rule in my kingdom,” said Diana,‘and lightly tripped away, up the links. Drock. THE ‘‘HERALD’S” MISTAKE. HE New York Herald recently offered a prize to the gripman who could conduct one of the Broad- way Chambers of Horrors around the curve at 53d Street and Columbus Avenue with the least loss of life during the day; the award to be made by a committee of reput- able citizens. President Vreeland, however, refused to consider the proposition, on the ground that the gripmen were all good men and true and that such a contest would be unfavorable to discipline. If the Hera/d had offered a prize to be given to the man who succeeded in dispatching the greatest number of human beings and crippling others who escaped with their lives, perhaps Vreeland would have smiled on the idea. “WILL YOU HELP A LOVE-LORN MAN, MUM?” “*LOVE-LORN MAN! WHY, YESTERDAY YOU HAD TEN SICK CHILDREN AND WERE BLIND YOURSELF. “T xNOW IT, MUM, BUT THE CHILDREN ALL DIED AND THE SHOCK RESTORED MY EYESIGHT.”