Life — December 1, 1900 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

Sourby stepped back and said dejectedly: ““Wouldn’t this jar a man? 1668 and no Christmas, and the good old days only a gloomy fake. I would I were back again in the wretched nineteenth century, if only for the bliss of slaying a poet, the ecstasy of murdering the driveling idiot who writes a romantic colonial novel. This is tough. Lead on, my besuteous saint. Proceed, Barebones. Take me away! Nail up my ears! Do any old thing you wish. If ever I get back to a place of contemporaneous human interest I'll burn my pedigree and deny my ancestors. A right, merry, joyous gang this 1668 crowd is. Now, my jocuad Puritan Father, bring on your bridewell !” When Sourby looked up, the stranger, the street and the seventeenth century had all vanished, and he was feelinga bump on his head and staring into the ashes of a dead fire. As he rose, cold and stiff, he muttered: ‘‘ Blast a lobster, anyhow. Good old times, eh! Grand old days of royster and wassail ! Rats! New York, A.D. 1900, is good enough for G. W. Sourby, and Christmasis the real thing, even if it breaks the firm. I'll paralyze those kids of Mary's to-morrow, if I never do it again. 1668? Well, I guess not.” Joseph Smith. AJOR, CUT ME OFF A DRUMSTICK, PLEASE!" “(a DRUMSTICK! THIS 18 4 TURKEY I'M CARVING ; XOT A BRASS-BAND!" at FH’ much does it really cost to get up one of these two-dollar Christmas dinners we read about in the cook books?” “Oh, about five dollars.” The Way of the World. SOREHEAD: Here is another rich man who has fallen heir to a fortune, It is always those that have that get. Bicneap: And that’s right, for it is always those that have that need more. At Christmas Time. ¢¢ TXHE samo old treos, tho samo old toys, Tbe same amount of Christmas noise; While poor folk spend their hard-carued cash For candy, nuts and other trash!” Hush, cynic, hush! For Christmas joys Each year there aro new girls and boys; 8o, for the sake of childron’s mirth, Let Santa Claus now rule the oarth | Nellie Frances Milburn, Easily Pleased. TREPHON: What shall I give you as a Christmas Sacharissa? Sacnanissa: Oh, anything, dear Strephon—uny little trifle ; that is, any- thing which costs so much that no otber girl in our set can bave one like it, token, dearest Its Status as a State. BiLvEF: But it is only one of the minor Western States. Gurr: It’s nothing of the kind. No State can be called minor that has half a dozen millionaires with homes on Fifth Avenue who ‘are trying to buck their way into New York society.