Life — November 28, 1901 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

‘WASH DAY ovEn. For Evermore. BY A RAVEN MANIAC. I N the winter months and dreary, when the land was getting weary Of the queer and curious volumes writ by heroes by the score, When the Spaniards were consenting to that treaty and lamenting For their exile, and dissenting, as they left the Cuban shore, Sad dissenting, nought contenting, as they left fair Cuba’s shore, To return there nevermore Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate, raucous inember of our Congress walked the floor, Shouting loudly and protesting that the nation was investing In a gold brick, and contesting, kept the country in a roar— Gabble of the Constitution kept the country in a roar, It had r known before. Floods of wordy castigation for the meek administration Shrilled me, filled with exasperation never felt before ; Sampson's name and Schley’s repeating, now in insult, now in greeting, Made the atmosphere as heating, as when on the Southern shore All the ships the Spanish fleet in sank beside the Southern shore, Heaps of junk and nothing more. Presently the cries grew stronger, epithets grew long and longer ; “Schley,” said one, ‘‘or Sampson,” with ranc’rous anger, to deplore; And the fact was there was scrapping, and most ungen'rous slapping, And of charts a curious mapping of this much-talked Southern shore, And a blaming and a claiming for the work done on that shore. Blame and claim for evermore. Men in documents were peering, while John Long was wond'ring, fearing, That fast was disappearing what is called esprit de corps, That the navy with its “knockers quick to Davy Jones's lockers Was passing, and he wished to list to either name no more, Wished that Schley and Sampson both were where they'd trouble him no more , Merely that and nothing more. | Then to navy bureaus turning, all his soul within him burning, | He shricked, “I'll stop this rappin now grown louder than before”; And in language terse and fiery, ordered he a deep inquiry That would probe—and maybe tire ye—tire ye leaders to the core. ‘Oh, this row of heroes pains me, cuts me to the very core ; It is wind and nothing more.” -LIFE- 433 ‘Then from ev'ry sea and nation, and from every naval Y station i 2 Came sleek officers, and sailormen, and lawyers by the score, And each one obeisance made he, to the Court just like a lady, Or a marshal on parade he, as he spun his battle lore; While the pallid Court perched list’ning to their endless battle lore; Perched and sat and nothing more. Passed the months in this beguiling, with the scoffing country smiling At the grave and stern decorum, which the Courtly countenance wore, Querying, ‘ Who is hero, craven? Who of glory shorn and shaven? Pray, whose ghastly case will cave in ere we reach the nightly shore? Must we hear grim specters raving on the night's Plutonian shore Of this case for evermore?” In the ages yet impending, ink and pen will be contending For the merits and demerits of this Schley and Sampson lore ; And in sheol and in heaven, it will be the acrid leaven Of eternal six and seven for the everlasting bore ; Of the sin that’s unforgiven in the everlasting bore: 'Twill go on for evermore. Joseph Smith, A Darwinian. PSOBEL : How perfectly your frock fits, dear. I thought you college girls soared above such trifles. Hypatia: Oh, no! We believe in the sur best fitted. al of the Life’s Board of Inquiry. r IFE'S Board of Inquiry is already being severely criticised because it is contrary to all precedent and against established usage. It is claimed that every Board of Inquiry worthy of the name should be as long drawn out as possible, that every witness should be examined to the bitter end shonld tell the story of his past life and as many other irrelevant details as can be crowded in; and that the details of the inquiry should be of no possible interest to anyone. To make up the Board, Senator B. Tillman and Booker T. Washington were induced to render their services for AS THE LIZARD TAKES A QUIET SMOKE, The Monkey (excitedly, to the eephanh: nt, Misten! mt YOU'VE DROPPED YOUR CIGAK-HOLDER!! comicbooks.com