Life, 1898-08-04 · page 3 of 20
Life — August 4, 1898 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis The main cartoon depicts a couple in domestic discord. The caption reads: "YOU SHOULDN'T GET CROSS OVER A LITTLE THING LIKE THAT, MY DEAR." / "WELL, YOU NEEDN'T SHOUT SO ABOUT IT, NEITHER FOR MY CROSS ABOUT." This satirizes common marital arguments over trivial matters, with both partners equally at fault yet defensive. The woman appears distressed while the man sits calmly, highlighting the gendered dynamics of early 20th-century relationship conflicts. The accompanying sketches and text pieces ("A Romance," "His Sacrifice," "Her Old Spinnet") are satirical takes on sentimental Victorian romance narratives, mocking their melodrama and unrealistic portrayals of love and sacrifice. The overall page ridicules both domestic tensions and romanticized notions of relationships prevalent in the era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LIFE: Wanted, a Critic. A® incredible report, which nevertheless seems to have basis, represents that the London Saturday Review has begun to say polite things about the bebavior of this countr: Really, things are coming to a serious pass, and it is Proper that we should anticipate the possibility of being constrained to put dust on our own heads and endue ourselves with the garb of humility, for lack of any sing]: British critic to do us that important service. Where are you, Mr. Godkin? Come home, good sir; come home. We must have some one to fall back upon DO ANYTHING WORSE FOR ME TO GET CROSS ABOUT.” Her Old Spinet. ITHIN ber old spinet lies hid So many quaint, dead melodies, I think if sbe but raised the lid, Or idly touched the yellow keys, Their ghosts would throng the quiet room, Like the faint perfume of a rose That died in some forgotten June. Within her old spinet is laid What memories of vanished times! In this same seat, in stiff brocade, One sang, perchance, her gallants' rhymes, I wonder if tho powdered beau Who bent to murmur his applause, Felt the same passion that I know, Sweetheart, within your old spinet, I, too, methinks, will breathe my pain, So, when some tdle day you let Your hands stray o'er the keys again, Haply they'll whisper back to you Tho story of one long forgot, Who worshipped where he dared not sue. Theodosia Pickering Garrison, Fkom the standpoint of Mr. Cun- ningham-Grabam, English gunners come high. Five hundred dollars a week seems a star price to pay, particularly when work is uncertain, and a guoner might loaf around for a long time before putting in an hour's hard work destroy- A Romance. EI, HE COUNT (in a businesslike way): Mr. Rocky, I need money, your daughter needs a title, (rhvee minutes tater.) Mr. Rocky (to footman): James, the window needs a new glass. N ATURE is blind, dumb to the IRST DOCTOR: I’ve got to make a trip out of town to- morrow, SEconD pleasure? “Both. I’m going to operate on a wealthy patient.” Doctor: Business or His Sacrifice. RS. TRACY: Do you realize, my dear, that you have never done anything to save your fellow- men any suffering? Tracy: Didn't I marry you? ing another fleet. At the same time, the price is perhaps not excessive when the speculative value of the services is considered. It is a pity, however, that the Parliament could tind no basis for Mr. Cunningham-Graham’s _asser- tion, because, if it were really true, we might have a chance to recipro- cate if England should get into trouble. Based on Mr. Cunning- ham-Graham’s figures, our price to John Bull for American gunners in an emergency need not necessa- rily be more than a hundred thou- sand dollars a day. AN INITIAL PER FORMANCE.