Life, 1898-02-10 · page 7 of 20
Life — February 10, 1898 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Obstacle" - Life Magazine, Page 107 This page contains a satirical dialogue about marriage and finances. A husband tells his wife he hesitates to send their son to college for four years because of the expense. The wife questions why he won't commit to supporting their son's education, asking pointedly: "Then why do you hesitate?" He replies: "I was thinking of the four years after he gets through." The joke targets husbands' financial anxiety and reluctance regarding family obligations. Below this, there's a Valentine's Day poem and illustrations of miners in the Klondike gold rush, referencing various mining claims with humorous names. The satire mocks middle-class domestic anxieties about wealth, education costs, and masculine financial responsibility—concerns clearly relevant to Life's contemporary readership.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Bear: 1 WILL JUST TURN HIM OVER AND BEGIN ON THE WARM SIDE. The Obstacle. IFE will have to support him for four years before he finishes, dear. Hvseaxp: I don't mind that so much. “Then why do you hesitate ?” “Twas thinking of the four years after he gets through,” , VERY wife should be alarmed when her husband begins to lose a certain amount of interest in other women. SS ANG awe SS IIE sun’s at my window, A-dance on the sill; A soft little wind Flutters over the hill To sigh through the curtain, “Oh, how can you stay In the country of dreams When it's Valentine's Day?” The lads are all stirring, I hear down the street The echocs awaken To hurrying feet. So here’s to the mirror! I'll dress me up gay In ribbons and frills, Since it’s Valentine's Day. The pink-flowered bodice, (Twill never be laced!) A new-gathered posy To pin at the waist. And over one shoulder, Half-loosened to stray ‘The curl he once kissed— For it’s Valentine’s Day. And now to the lattice: Yes, over the snow There wavers a shadow— It’s someone I know. He's plying the knocker, He's coming to say “L love you, sweetheart!” And it’s Valentine's Day. EW. 107 In the Literary Klondike. “pus,” said my guide, pointing out a large and carefully-worked claim, “is the Henry James mine. There's Hen himself at work now, See him washing his ore, lis sentences are so heavy they drop to the bottom at once—but he don't use ’em that way, not he! He pounds and polishes them till they're right up in shape. Now here's the Crawford claim—Francis ain't nothin’ like so particular as Hen, but a * HELLO! he piles up a heap more. Why, his fs purt nigh the most prolific mine in the hull dig- gin’s, He jest digs it up and uses it asitis, hit er miss—only get it sent off and grub for more. Now, over yonder is George Meredith's claim. My! how that man works. Queer old genius, he is, and he sends his ore to market, quartz and all, and leaves his readers to pick out the gold nug- gets. This here’s the Du Maurier mine. Deserted, you see. Ain't no one touched it sence George died. My! I'll never forget the day he found the Trilby nugget. He was as much surprised as anybody. ‘Fel- lers,’ says he, when it was assayed, ‘I hadn't no idea it was such a big one.’ Poor boy, he only worked his claim a little while after that, and now he’s gone. This next one’s deserted too, but he ain't dead, It’s Stephen Crane’s, and he’s just sky- larkin’ round on other matters. He'll turn up here again some day. See his little purple cabin, with a pink roof and blue shutters, Looks like a painter's sample- card, But that’s Steve's taste. He's a queer feller, We all thought he'd struck it rich when he found his Red Badge nug- get, but law! he’s all petered out now. There's Dick Le Gallienne’s tent. He doesn’t mine much, but he’s got a pretty