Life, 1900-12-13 · page 9 of 20
Life — December 13, 1900 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 513 This page contains two distinct pieces: **"In Snow Time"** (top right): A poem by Frank Batchelder about winter romance and coziness, illustrated with a snowy landscape scene. It's sentimental Victorian-era verse celebrating the comfort of being with a loved one during cold weather—straightforward romantic content with no satirical intent. **"The Fatality of Good Manners"** (bottom): A brief anecdote mocking New York social conventions. It describes how Reverend John Barry of New Hampshire was fatally struck by a cable car while politely bowing to acknowledge friends' greetings. The satire criticizes excessive politeness as potentially dangerous—a commentary on rigid social etiquette that prioritizes formality over practical safety. The accompanying cartoon illustrates this absurdist scenario. The page juxtaposes sentimental romance with social satire typical of *Life* magazine's approach.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“L WILL CALL IT COMPSOGNATHUS OBTUSIDENS BLINKSIS."” Ghost of the Victim: wei! THAT's RovGH ON ME. it is a singularly lovely afternoon?” “It is not my fault,"’ he smiled. “It is the fault of the Cardinal's kodak. It needs sunshine.”” She mounted her bicycle. Matthew glared after her, wishing he had not given her the kodak. Still—after all, there were reasons—reasons. the Cardinal's, not his. Pereical Pollard, It was The Fatality of Good Manners. HE VERY REVEREND JOHN BARRY of New Hampshire was struck by a cable car in front of the Astor House, in New York, on Novem- ber 14, and killed. There isa sad little moral to the story of his death. He and two friends, all strangers in town, had stopped to ask information from a r-by. Getting the information they wanted, the two friends started briskly across the street, but Dr. Barry paused to bow his acknowledgments. The moment of delay that politeness cost him was fatal. As he turned to follow his companions, the car struck him, and he was gone. And yet some persons wonder because folks in New York tend to be abrupt in manner and seem to grudge the time it takes to be polite! E understand on high an- thority that as regards the Filipinos we cannot have peace with honor, That is very sad. It would seem to the unthinking, however, that peace with honor was always possible to a big man who was hammering a little one. In Snow Time. a MEN Alice and I go sleighing In a cutter that’s snug for two, With the chime of the sleigh-bell: is only for you—for you I think of the club and its smoker, Where the mereu enty-three, And the boys at their tedious poker— Well—wouldn’t they like to be me? A horse that is fleet and steady, A moon at the full in the sky \ road where the snow alre Is trampled, and hard, and dry. Then out through the country we jingle, The bearskin tucked under her toes, Our car-tips beginning to tingle, AA tear at the end of my nose! The snow ‘neath the runners is ¢ The horse to his fast pac And then Lam conscious of seckin A little hand under the furs. Was anything ever so cosy My courage grows suddenly bold, And Alice's checks are as ro: As roses—perhaps with the cold ! ‘Then home !—when she says she is h, and a ‘ire in the A low-spoken word and a OF hands as we drive through the gate. T pity the fellows still playing At poker, and toasting their toes, Who haven't a partner for slei Like Alice, my Queen of the Snows. Frank R. Batchelder, The Owl; DEAR MY! 1 PRESUME THAT COLORED GENTLEMAN 18 THE CASIIER OF THAT HEN ROOST.