Life, 1903-09-17 · page 3 of 20
Life — September 17, 1903 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 263 This page contains two distinct pieces: **"When Phoebe Comes to Town"** (left) is a poem by Christine Griffin celebrating a woman's arrival, praising her beauty and charm. The accompanying sketch shows a fashionable woman with an elaborate Edwardian-era hat—typical of early 1900s women's fashion. **"No Hope for Such as He"** (right) is a satirical courtroom scene mocking a defendant whose eccentric speech and behavior perplex the judge. The prisoner speaks in incomprehensible jargon (mixing "passementerie," "organdies," and fashion terminology), and the judge dismisses him to an asylum. The satire appears to ridicule either pretentious fashion-obsessed individuals or perhaps specific social eccentrics of the era. The joke relies on the absurdity of his rambling defense.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
When Phebe Comes to Town. TPE sunny aie grows strangely sweet As if her dainty little feet Were crushing blossoms thrown to greet Her steps as she trips down ; — And other maidens look askance, Or turn away with envious glanc And try their own charms to enh When Phebe comes to town, Her black hat made of something thin, I vow, tempts all the sunshine in To touch her hair and lips and chin ; Her eyes of saucy brown With merry challenge seem to dare The men to follow every where— ike fools .. . Ido declare, Phebe comes to town. But as for me,—ah, well-a-day— In these hard times, I know I may Be thankful J don't have to pay The price of her new gown ; — For though the modern stuffs be high, Such yards and yards as she will buy, And thick and fast the shekels fly— When Pharbe comes to town. Christine Griffin. HE next caso on the docket was a small man witha nervous aspect and a rolling eye, who clutched convul- sively in his hand a large bundle of papers and muttered to him- self. “What's the case against this man?’’ asked the Judge. “We have not decided, your Honor. He was found last night wandering around aimlessly in a side street, ap- parently in an irresponsible condition, talking in a strange tongue, intervined with some familiar phrase: “Prisoner,” said the Judge se- verely, ‘‘ what were you saying?” «Twas saying,’’ remarked the pris- oner, as he looked wildly about him, “that passementerie is all right with renaissance, when it is cut bias, but what is the use of an organdie trimmed with accordian pleats? Is a straight front worth twenty-five dollars equal toa sheer fluted edged nun’s veiling, and why should two dozen hemstitched handkerchiefs be made up with flounces down the side and pointed edges extending in a line to the hips? A flock of white duck skirts is all right, but I'll be hanged if I see the value in a pongee kimona with a cord- ed back, and who would care to trim an acre of hats with only two crates of material, what ’’-—— The Judge, examining the papers that the man had held, gazed at him pityingly. ‘ake him away to the asylum,” ho said to the officer. “Don’t you see that this miserable wretch has been ass enough to try to solve the mystery of his wife’s personal bills for the last month?”” Tom Masson, Protest. OCTOR: I should say you have about three months to live. Patient: Make it longer, doctor ; I can never pay your bill in that time comicbooks.com