Life — March 18, 1897 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

HIS READY EXCUSE. “tT qov dare you, sir!” she exclaimed, after the deed was done. “You must not mind me,” he replied. a chronic osculatory kleptomaniac.” “Tam THE TEMPTATION OF ST. ANTHONY. Stork: Say, 1F | WERE YOU I'D HAVE ME LEGS SHAVED, YOU LOOK LIKE A FULL-RIGGED SHIP. Booted Lynx; MUU! I'D RATHER GO FULL- RIGGED THAN scuDDING WITH BARE POLES, NO MISTAKE. HERE was a bad mistake in the paper this morning,” said the news editor to the proofreader. ‘‘In refer- ring to the death of this man Linerre, the types say that he was prominent in the New Jerusalem. “Well?” “It should have been the New Journalism.” “Oh,” said the proofreader, ‘‘I don’t know that there's much difference.” ——— A DOWN-TOWN INCIDENT. T cighteen minutes past one, on March 4th, a traveler passing up Nassau Street might have heard a weird sound, something between the harsh breathing of a steam fog- horn and the shrill cry of the sun- burned cicada. It started, soughing; rose, swelled into almost a shrick, ebbed, and died slowly out into a husky whistle. What was it! At its first note, passers-by stopped and said ‘‘ Hist!” For an instant they were awed; then they wondered; then somebody gues: and then they smiled, It was the great spirit of the Sus, sighing its relief at the retirement of Grover Cleveland from public office. Ah, me! When little Johnny took his foot off of the still-only-partially-squashed bug, the bug was glad, but it could not express its relief, The Sw has the advantage of the bug, in possessing in an unusual degree the faculty of expression. Its sigh was splendid. ME. DIVORCONS: Yes, indeed, Miss Knickerbocker, I believe with Emerson, that personalities are the bane of familiar conversation. Now, I never talk about myself — never! Miss KNICKERBOCKER: You are quite right, I am sure, madame. Sensational and vulgar topics should always be tabooed.