Life — October 7, 1897 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

literary men have penned their deathless lines, and otherwise endeavors to do his duty in his own modest and unobtrusive sphere of life. If, as a set-off to the monotonous pleasures of philanthropy, he goes to Europe and buys his wife some gowns, let his helplessness as a husband plead for him with an affronted public. ‘*Cherchez la femme,” and having found her—in this case without much trouble—forgive the innocent male offender against Republi- can simplicity. An American Dives, like an American Laz- arus, is first a husband, and then a citizen and a man. * ° . ND Madame Dives smiles, sphinxlike, at the feeble efforts of politicians to restrain the superb freedom of her mag- nificent career. She is mistress of this situation, as of allothers in which she condescends to play her admirable part. Her smiles are sweetest when she reads that clause in the tariff bill—foolish product of men's foolish brains — which gra- ciously permits her to bring home free of duty ‘all wear- ing apparel and other personal effects taken out of the United States to foreign countries.” Even the languid and imper- sonal amusement with which she regards other clauses gen- erously admitting into the young Republic joss sticks, stale orangepeel, and worn- out rubber shoes, fades before the keener entertainment yielded her by the wearing apparel clause. And yet it is Dives whom the newspapers take to task. Alas! Poor Dives! Agnes Repplier. The U.S Wheel. F Boston really is “the Hub,” We think, then, to be frank, That Philadelphia is the tire, And Kansas is the crank. Chicago must the pedal be Because the feet are there, And New York is the handle- bar . That steers the whole affair. MeLandburgh Wilson, HE Atlantic Monthly is forty years old and still prosper- ous. The current issue is an anniversary number. Lire rejoices in the Atlantic's continuance. It is an exceedingly respectable publication, which has never shown an undignified eager- ness to be read by Tom, Dick and Harry, but nas been content to edify a somewhat select band who took literature seriously. Contemplation of its fame some- how begets the thought—What a great town Boston would have been if it had been built on Man- hattan Island! Let us be thankful it wasn't, and thankful also that, walike the North American, the Atlantic has never moved to New York. comicbooks.com