Life — January 3, 1901 — page 5: what you’re looking at

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

5 finally leave him, with a sense of your own intense importance which only another interview with the doctor and the trained nurse—and the baby—can wipe out. But all things have an end. At the end of a month, while you are at your desk at profit and tos some one comes in, slaps you on the back, and shou “Well, old man, how's the baby?” And you reply, absent-mindedly: ‘Oh, he's all right!” But a Flash in the Pan. OTHER: And how did your wife receive the pearls—your Christmas gift? Son: She was delighted. And she was so nice for a couple of days; but she’s herself again now. T is too bad that Mr. Winston Spencer Churchill should have come to grief over here. He seems to be a well-intentioned young man —a trifle spoiled, perhaps, by his own prospective greatness—but he certainly mado a mistake when he hired himself out as a lion to Major Pond. The Major does not seem to be a safe guide for immature war corre- spondents. DVICE FOR AN ALBUM: Marry young, and, if circumstances require it, often ! QUEEN OF 4 MUNDRED YEans. to be ashamed at—and as you approach your ‘office, you grow more and more uneasy. And yet, while there is guilt written all over your face, there wells up in your heart a veritable fountain of intense egotism, which is immediately on tap to the first Progress. ITP WAS said by a Whig, Thata man with a gig Enjoyed a clear claim to gentility. But a man who would now Win the parvenu's bow Must belong to the automobility. When a Man First Becomes a Father. W HEN the average novel writer wishes to describe a set of emotions for which he has no appropriate name, he usually refers to them as being “ mingled,” and this, perhaps better than anything else, reflects the condition of a man when he first becomes a father. Coupled with the feeling of intense pride that comes to you as one of the “interested parties” in such a momentous event, is the kindred feeling of utter insignificance you also have, which acts as an antidote. After being ordered out of the room by the doctor and the trained nurse, you wander aimlessly down a side street, although you cannot for the life of you tell what there is moment of confidence. You assume a careless, devil-may-care air, and carry your indifference to the point of intensity. And then in response to in- quiries —for your face itself is a story bearer—you announce, as if it happened daily, like the weather report and the time- table, that it is a boy, or a girl, as the case may be. Thus you run the gauntlet, and finding that the world still moves and breathes and everybody is inclined to settle down, you watch your chance, and get the first unmarried man you can find to consent to listen to you. You pour into his sympa- thetic ear the whole story. You tell him how much the baby weighs, who it looks like, how you felt, and how you feel. You describe your aspirations for that child, talk about love and duty and education and training, order a small bottle, supplement it with another, get more confidential, and The Squirrel: Xow. IP YOU DON'T BE MORK LIABLE TO Break OUR WINDO MERE, YOUNG MAN, youre comicbooks.com