Life — December 7, 1899 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

Solid Enjoyment. APPY tho man, within his club at ease, }- Clean-shaven, dressed, adinner neatly spread, Who looks upon the wine when it is red (And slightly warmed), bis napkin on his knees, Thinking, if he's a lawyer, on his fees, —At any rate, contented with his day— Who can at last, with independence, say, “Prom now to midnight I'l do what I pleaso: «1 will not read the Sun, nor eko the Post ; “The World and Journal! Faugh! Let Dana roast ~Creveland and Schley, and so forth; one thing sure, “No line from magazine may I endure: “Waiter! bring this wook’s Lire — I wish it were a dally; “Brandy and soda, too—T'il end the ovening gaily.” NE may safely conclude from the following story that the good old faith of Calvin is very much alive yet. An American lady who was in the Highlands shooting with her husband, attended the local kirk one Sunday morning, but Icft it with scandalous precipitation. For an hour the good minister had been flercely raging at his benighted congregation, and wound up: MISERY LOVES COMPANY. John Bull: YOU PON'T LOOK MAS IP YOU SLEPT MUCH, HUNCLE, Uncte Sam , T DONT SLEEP ANY SORE. 497 “And pairhaps” (with pious cunning) “*ye'll be thinkin’, ye wairtbless waistrels, that ye can daddle intac Paradise by clootchin’ tac my coat-tails! Dinna be deceivit, for mark wecl” (a pause of stern and holy joy), ‘when the Trump of Gabriel soonds, I'll sneck them aft!” Proved. IM: This Administration is as futile and ineffective and useless and— His Wire: It is, John, it is. Why, there isn’t a single letter box with a slit big enough for you to mail a bundle o papers, “OW EXTREMELY NOD! SVE GOT THR BLOOMIN’ INSOMNIA MESELP, YE KNOW—SIAKE!