Life — February 10, 1898 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

“GOLLY! garden, and his rooms is fixed up nice inside. See where somebody's chalked on the canvas—‘Don’t kill the goose that wrote the Golden Girl!’ They will have their little jokes. And thisis Ian Maclaren’s place. He don’t care for gold, he just digs around for d The day he rooted up ‘Hoot, Mon!’ he treated us all to hot Scotch, he was so pleased. Here's Steven- son’ We allers takes off our hats when we go by here. Everybody loved Louis. He worked so hard, and his pile wasn’t so very big, but it was pure gold. “So it goes. The old settlers is a passin’ away and the your ones are flockin’ in plenty. Over there the women’s mines, They don't get nu: gets much, only dust; but it amuses vem. “What's that? Others run the old mines? Ob, yes, they try sometimes, but they don't seem to work ’emright, Any- way, they don't get much out of ‘em. Goin’ to be a miner yourself? Of course you'd make more if you started a syndi- cate, but come on, if you want to. Here's the whole Literary Klondike, and only a little corner of it been worked. Of course TAM GOING SOMEWHERE PRETTY Past!” Recorder Goft. TH gentleman, now serving a four- cars’ term at a salary of twelve thousand dollars a year as Re- corder of New York, is a relic of the past, left over from the first fruits of the Reform administration, At one time Recorder Goff was prominent because of the scathing things he said about the closing reign of the last Tammany gov- ernment. Since then his only claim to recognition has been that every decision of any public interest he has made has been reversed by a higher court. teen Life’s “Pegasus” Contest Number Three. P* RTICULARS with regard to Lire’s ‘ Pegasus” Contest Num- ber Three, which opens in this issuc, will be found on the first inside adver- tising p “SHOVEL ME ovT, MARY.” you may get drowned in the You Can't river, but then again you may make fame and fortune. And you must expect depriva- tion and hardships, and freeze-outs from the editors and publishers. Oh, it’s awful cold here sometimes, but if yer mine’s any good it'll pay you in the end. There's Barrie just over there—but don’t look that way, he’s awful bashful. Now here's Kip- ling’s mine, He struck it rich—found poetry ore, too, Them poetry nuggets of his brings mighty big prices. “Outht? Oh, all you need is a fountain- pen, and some paper, and a lot of stamps, and awaste-basket, It’s hit er miss, afterall, Pull ain't nothin’; experience ain’t much; it’s the vein what tells.” Carolyn Wells, PEAKING of the interest of the Reform cipal art, Harper's Weekly Politics, with its irritations and rancors, ab- sorbs far more than its rightful share of the energy of citizens, The fine arts provide a chance for action apart from politics. Yes; but not apart from “irritations and ran cors."” To get a good statue or a good monu- ment well placed in this town, or to hinder bad jobs in art or the selection of unsuitable sites, is a work that seems to call for a girding on of the whole armor of good-citizenship, and for persistent effort of the most resolute sort, The citizen who has scratched out both his eyes in the political bramble-bush and wants to scratch them in again, will find in municipal art another bramble-bush just suited to that intention.