Life, 1900-11-29 · page 3 of 20
Life — November 29, 1900 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 423: Life Magazine Cartoon Analysis **Main Cartoon ("Looking Ahead"):** Two formally-dressed men converse while a woman sits in the background of what appears to be an art gallery or formal interior. The caption quotes one man asking another how he expects to do office work when sitting up late with his daughter every night. This satirizes the tension between professional obligations and parental duties—specifically, the challenge fathers faced managing late-night socializing with eligible daughters during the courtship era. **Text Content:** The page includes three separate pieces: "The Unconquerable" (a humorous poem about a youth persisting despite golf mishaps), "Wide Open" (a dialogue between authors discussing club membership rules), and other literary content typical of Life's satirical format. The humor reflects early 20th-century concerns about balancing family obligations with work and social expectations.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LOOKING AHEAD, “YOUNG MAN, IF YOU SIT UP SO LATE WITH MY DAUGHTER EVERY NIGUT, NOW DO YOU EXPECT To DO YouR orrice work?” “1 DON’T EXPECT TO DO IT, sn.” The Unconquerable, HE mercury was falling fast Sle G— As out upon the links there Fb passed A-youth, who bore, encased in ice, A bag of clubs. He bellowed twice, His waistcoat, a red coat beneath, Gleamed like a dahlia in its sheath, And like a brass ten-pounder rung The how] educed from leathern lung, pre! "* ” the keeper bawled “The snow's so deep you will be stall The wind, the ice!’ —"twas all in v Shrieked out the youth in high disda —hold up, there — it's time to quit. D'ye take me for a snow-plow— nit So ran the caddie’s last farewell. The only answer was a yell, “ Fore!" And, as he wound his matin horn Zre yet the dawn’s faint streaks were born, The milkman heard a mufiled cry, a sniff, a sneeze, a sigh, “Try not the link: A mound of snow they cleared away And found him, later in the day, Clubs clasped to breast in grip of And murmuring with gasping breath, “Fore!” MW. Poot, Wide Open. J RIGGS: Well, old man, how is that Authors’ Club of yours getting on? Griaos: First-rate. We have made a rule that no one can belong to it unless he has written a book. “Isthatso? Ihad an idea that it was an exclusive affair.’