Life, 1899-03-25 · page 13 of 32
Life — March 25, 1899 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct satirical pieces: **Top Cartoon:** Shows two men in period dress (appearing to be from different cultures—one Western, one Asian) discussing a misunderstanding. The joke plays on cultural conflict: the Western man warns that where he's from, you'd "get shot up plenty dreadful" for the behavior the Asian man witnessed. The satire mocks both the threat of Western violence and the attempt to suppress uncomfortable truths through intimidation. **"To My Tobacco Jar":** A humorous poem personifying a tobacco jar as a loyal, grinning companion—suggesting the comfort and solace smoking provides. It's lighthearted domestic verse about a smoker's relationship with his habit. **"Changing His Mind":** A brief joke about a magazine editor who initially rejects a story but immediately accepts it upon learning it's set in an unknown place and written in an incomprehensible language. The satire targets editorial pretension and the publishing industry's willingness to accept anything if it sounds sufficiently exotic or obscure. The minor aphorisms ("One should never look a gift kiss in the mouth," "Wornout says...") are filler jokes typical of the era's magazine format.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“WELL, YOU'D PROBABLY GET SHOT UP PLENTY DREADFUL IP YOU TRIED THAT WHERE I COME FROM. “BUT I INSIST, MY OCCIDENTAL FRIEND, YOU WERE MISTAKEN IN WHAT YOU OVERUEARD, BUT To ELEVATE THe stacy.” To My Tobacco Jar. H, friend of soft and slippered ease! Oh, silent sharer of my moods! A comrade thou who strives to please, And ne'er upon my thoughts intrudes, Ob, sunny-visaged seraph! say, How can you keep your temper while ‘Tho world wags wrong; bow can you, pray, Just smile and smile, and ever smile? Bmile, do Tsay? Nay, rather grin, In merry, jovial good-will And peace toward all, I most begin To think thou art a villain still, Beneath your cow! of brown, your face Is furrowed with a score of lines, And in your eyes, its rallying place, The laughter leaps and lurks and shines, Good Friar Tuck, I own sometimes Your smile doth jar, your mirth provoke; Yet when your mood with my mood chimes I gladly join you in your joke. And though grins gainsay brains, ’tis said, ‘This grateful tribute I'll bestow— You'vo better stuff within your head Than have some people whom I know. Richard Stillman Powell, -ORNOUT says that his wife is “a thing of beauty and a jaw for- ever.” ‘WE WERE NOt PLANNING TO HOLD UP THE STAGE COACH, Changing His Mind. «¢7 AM sorry,” said the magazine edi- tor, courteously, ** but we are not accepting any short stories now.” “But the scene of this story,” said the confident contributor, ‘* is laid in a place that nobody ever heard of, and is writ- ten in a language that no one cap under- stand,” “Then why didn’t you say so before?” exclaimed the magazine editor, as he grasped it cagerly. NE should never look a gift kiss in the mouth. comicbooks.com