Life, 1899-05-04 · page 7 of 20
Life — May 4, 1899 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 379 This page contains two distinct cartoons satirizing early 20th-century life: **Top cartoon ("Spring Reflections"):** A goat-drawn cart carries a man who daydreams about being "hitched to that silver-tongued thing again next year"—likely satirizing marriage or romantic entanglement, with the goat serving as a crude counterpart to an idealized romantic partner. **Bottom cartoon:** Shows an adult (possibly a governess or nanny based on the formal dress) with children outdoors. The caption dialogue—"Why don't you share your cookies with your little sister?" and "Aw, don't get excited. We're formin' a trust"—satirizes the contemporary monopoly trust debate by depicting children applying corporate financial strategy to sharing candy, mocking how business consolidation language had permeated popular culture.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
SPRING REFLECTIONS, “1 WoNDeR IF I'M To BE MITCUED TO THAT GILVER-TONGUED THING AGAIN NEXT YEAR?” radiantly beautiful woman. If she bad only been pale, sad, broken-hearted, he might have forgiven her, As it was, he hated her for what she bad taken from his life— his faith in woman, his belicfs, his boylhood’s ideals! He wished, as he thought of it all, that he could make her suffer for all she had made him lose. He commenced to think of some way in which he might show her cruelly that she had no place in his thoughts or bis life. And she thought she could whistle him back like this! Ha, ha! He remembered one night that no one knew of but him, after she had gone away, when his boyish heartbreak had spent itself in a burst of hysterical, womanish tears. He had always had a contempt for himself for that. He wished that it was in his power to make her shed tears as bitter as those. He thought that he would brutally ignore her letter ; but no, that would not hurt a woman such as she. He picked the sheet of paper from the table and read it again. How well he remembered that writing! That had not changed. What pages recklessly sweet she had written him! And le— ha, ha! He wondered if she had those letters yet. “In the aXernoon at fouron Thursday.” A drift of violet— the scent of spring—came up from the paper, and he remem- bered, and his hand trembled. Then he heard himself laugh. It had just occurred to him—this was Thursday afternoon, and it was just after three. Ten he told his man to call a cab. Kate Masterson, EWELL LITTLE: Is this wireless telegrapby practicable? Newsome Moone: Why, sure! The yellow journals used it all through the late war. “BOTA, BOYS, Fon SHAME! YOUR LitTLy sistem!" “AW, DON'T GET EXCITED. WHY DON’T YOU SARE YOUR CooKizs wiTn We're ronMin’ 4 TRUST.” comicbooks.com