Life, 1896-12-05 · page 1 of 34
Life — December 5, 1896 — page 1: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis The page features an illustration titled "A SUDDEN SQUALL" with accompanying text explaining that "the young man is thinking that it is a poor squall that blows nobody any good." The image shows a figure in winter clothing struggling with a bicycle in snowy conditions, with bare winter vegetation visible. Below is a poem titled "BALLADE OF OLD LOVES" by Carolyn Wells, expressing nostalgic themes about past romance and Christmas memories. The satirical point appears to be about finding unexpected benefit in difficult circumstances—the "squall" (snowstorm) forcing the young man and woman together creates an opportunity. The poem's melancholic tone about lost love and "only a ghost of a Christmas Past" complements this romantic scenario, suggesting that even hardship can bring silver linings in matters of the heart.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
NUMBER 728, DECEMBER 5, 1896, A SUDDEN SQUALL. AND THE YOUNG MAN IS THINKING THAT IT IS A POOR SQUALL THAT BLOWS NOBODY ANY GOOD. wre is it stands on the polished stair, A merry, laughing, winsome maid, From the Christmas rose in her golden hair Tothe high-heeled slippers of spangled suede? A glance, half-daring and half-afraid, Gleams from her roguish eyes downcast; Already the vision begins to fade— ‘Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. Who is it sits in that high-backed chair, Quaintly in ruff and patch arrayed, BALLADE OF OLD LOVES. With a mockery gay of a stately air As she rustles the folds of her old brocade— Merriest heart at the masquerade ? Ah, but the picture is passing fast Back to the darkness from which it strayed— Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. Who is it whirls in a ball-room’s glare, Her soft white hand on my shoulder laid, Like a radiant lily, tall and fair, While the violins in the corner played ains of the serenade ? Oh, lovely vision, too sweet to last— E’en now my fancy it will evade— ’Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. L'ENVOL. Rosamond ! look not so dismayed, All of my heart, dear love, hast. Jealous, belovéd? Of a shade ?— Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. thou Carolyn Wells,