Life — April 18, 1901 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

WHO'LL FORGET? ‘Who, in the soggy, blooded fens Of Africa, midst llons’ dens, Fights, with a heart as stout as oak, With scorn of proffered Brush yoke? Lest you forget— De Wet! ‘Who, with no fear, no pause for breath, No cry for help, no dread of death, Stands lone, bat eager for the fray, By light of stars or heat of day? Lest you forget ~ De Wet! ‘Who, cornered at the last dank ditch, Is Oghting like a wounded bitch For whelps that cannot know her love, Bat fighting for that same to prove? Lest you forget— De Wet! And who'll forget? They'll not forge’ My Ladysmith’s long, hungry sweat, Or Mafeking’s despondent days, Or Splon Kop with shots ablaze— They'll not forget, You bet! —John A. Moroso, in New York Sun. THE Argonaut does not wish to be Irreverent, and it trusts thay It will not shock any loyal Englishman, but we cannot conceal our hellef that the pageantry and ceremonies + over the accession of Edward the Seventh are deliciously, uproartously, and excruciatingly funny. It ts the greatest Joke of the century—which, {t ts true, ts only two months old. How any person with sense of humor can look at the London pictortals without laughing, we donot understand, To see pictures of @ short fat man, with a protruding abdomen, waddling beneath enormous royal robes ; to sce him seated in an elaborately carved mediaval chair, with bis abdomen reposting on his knees ; to see this short fat person covered with Jewels, hang with orders, blazing with diamonds, be- wrapped with ermine, and begirt with gold; to see around him tail thin men tn petticoats, short fat men in bath-gowns, bald headed, solemo men In wrappers, bewigged and be- peruked funny little men in tea gowns, bearing Cups of Maintenance, Imperial Crowns, Royal Rods, and Court Keys to Back Stairs; to see the fooltsh face of the Marquis of | Winchester io medieval garb, with a modern monocle stack inte his starboard eye, carrying on a tea-tray # tinsel crown ; to see this amusing me ley, looking something like the Jacks of clubs and spades, and something like » cheap masquerade; to reflect that these men are of the same blood as we are, and that this Is the twentieth centary ; to believe that they belleve ‘that the short fat man is their ruler becanse of the accident of birth—to contemplate this amazing spectacle 1s too much for one’s gravity. When we remarked, on the death of Queen Victoria, that monarchical Ideas had recelved a shock, one of our readers took column to convince us we were wrong, All the same, we remain unconvinced.’ If this solemn mummery ts one of the great Jokes of this century, tt will not be one of the jokes of the next. —San Francisco Argonaut, CERTAIN of the theatres In Russia are under the control of the state, and the actors are therefore subject to govern- ment control, A famous dancer at one of these theatres desired to secure a month's leave of absence In order to re- cover her health by a tour of the provinces. She accor went to the government offical to obtain the usual permis sion. He received her politely, and asked for her writtea ‘application. « Lhave no written application,” was the answer. “had no {dea such a thing was necessary.” jot necessary, madam?” replied the official. Why, nothing can be done without tt!" “ What am [to do, then?” Here are pens and papers. Be 80 good as to sit down and write what { dictate.” She sat down, and the petition was written, signed and folded. “And now,” sald the representative of the state, “ roa have only to deltver tt.” “To whomt" she asked. “To whom?” repeated the official, with almplicity. “To me, of course." ‘Then, taking the petition which he himself had dictated, he produced his spectacles, wiped them, and carefully a¢- Justing them upon his nose, read over the whole document as if he bad never seen tt before, fled it in due form, and thes, turning to the fmpattent danseuse, sald, with the utmom gravity: ‘Madam, Ihave read your petition, and regret exceed- ingly that I cannot grant {t."—Family Herald. smile at ber Henny James was once pralsi=g the work of a fellow. author, “You are very kind to him," sald some one preseat, “ for he says very unpleasant things about your work.” “Ab,” said Mr, James, “but, then, both of us may te wrong "Argonaut. 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