Life, 1899-01-26 · page 6 of 20
Life — January 26, 1899 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 66: Life Magazine This page contains two distinct items: **"The Perennial Game"** (top): A winter scene showing figures engaged in what appears to be sledding or snow activities—likely satirizing recurring seasonal pastimes or social behaviors that repeat annually. **"Getting Ready for St. Valentine's Day"** (center/right): A humorous poem by Burgess Johnson playfully listing romantic frustrations—stomach aches, griddle cakes, garter snakes—mixed with genuine romantic sentiments. The verses mock the difficulty of expressing love convincingly. **"Keeping a Watch on Him"** (bottom right): An illustration showing two figures in what appears to be a domestic scene, likely satirizing spousal surveillance or relationship dynamics—a common humor subject of the era. The overall page blends seasonal humor (Valentine's Day preparation) with domestic social commentary typical of early 20th-century Life magazine's satirical approach.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
— vey THE PERENNIAL GAME. Getting Ready for St. Valentine’s Day. The Poet composes. 0 toll thee of my lasting love I send this to thee, dear, To say that throughout all my lifo I've ne'er found maid so—queer —drear —peer— Of course, I've ne'er found maid thy peer. I love to gazo into thine eyes, Thoso windows of thy soul, So full of tender meaning, Lovo, Like to a—buttered roll —ton of coal —distant goal— To be sure, ‘They are my distant goal. I love to clasp thy little hand, T cannot let it fall; Your shapoly, tender little arm Is like a—parasol —worsted shawl ~-musket ball —garden wall— Just what your little arm is like, T cannot now recall, I love the music of thy voice, Td listen to it long, T often think its gentle tones Are like a—dinner gong —somothing wrong —angol’s song— Yes, yes, Are like an angel’s song. Thy wavy hair, thy cherry lips, Thy morry, silvery laugt But more than all, thy graceful form, "Tis like a—thia giraffe —brindlo calf —turning-lathe— You know just what I want to say, T can’t express it half. And so I sond these verses to you, Love, I hope that they will ta For if you should accept my suit I'd havo a—stomach ache griddle cake —Irish wako —garter snako— I fear that I can rhyme no more, T'll stop it for your sake, Burges Johnson, IFE is credibly informed that one Corbin is Adjutant-General of the United States Army, and that the Gov- ernment at Washington still lives. It also learns from private sources that Mr. Alger of Michigan is still Secretary of War io President McKinley's Cabinet. Mr. Alger states officially that the United States had an admirably organized and perfectly equipped War Department until the war came along and knocked it all to pieces. “KEEPING A WATCH ON HIM.”