Life, 1903-12-31 · page 8 of 21
Life — December 31, 1903 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a serialized story rather than a political cartoon. The illustration shows what appears to be a dramatic nighttime scene in a locomotive or train cabin, with a figure visible in dim lighting. The narrative depicts Mrs. Dimpleton discussing dinner preparations with her husband. The story is primarily dialogue-driven domestic fiction, not satire. The embedded poem about meal preparation ("Aye, marry, 'tis the hour...") celebrates traditional cooking—roasted meats, vegetable sides, pasta, salads—suggesting this reflects late 19th or early 20th century household values around domestic management and traditional cuisine. This is literary entertainment rather than political commentary or social satire.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
AN OLD HAND AT THE THROTTLE. door turned, and Dimpleton, expectant and enthusiastic, entered the house. “Has she come?” he whispered. her sense of primitive rhythm?” “Yes,” said Mrs. Dimpleton, ‘she is here, and I think she was greatly impressed by what I chanted to her. When she comes down, after changing her clothes, I shall give her my instructions for dinner. There’s only one thing that troubles me. This morning, before this fine idea came into my head, I had already ordered the dinner, and many of the things I ordered don’t rhyme. For instance, there’s no good rhyme for mock turtle, I might just as well have had tomato soup, which goes so well with potato. Then, what can I do with spinach and spa- ghetti? You see, her name isn't Betty.” “Why not use blank verse?” suggested Dimpleton. Mrs. Dimpleton hesitated. “It isn't quite primitive enough,” she said. might doata pinch. That's a good suggestion.” A few moments after the new cook had come down- stairs, Mrs. Dimpleton reentered the kitchen. Mary stared at her apprehensively at first, but observing that her mis- tress’ face was calm and placid, continued to busy herself with her work. “Twas just about to ask ye, ma’am,” she said, ‘what yez would have for dinner.” Said Mrs. Dimpleton : “Did you appeal to “Still, it ye, marry, ‘tis the hour, And thou, the actor chief in this event. Go look! Within the ice-box thou shalt find, All clustered round the frigid zone therein, A group of goodly things—Anon prepare ‘Their succulence to greet our goodly eyes. Rough-coated bivalves first shall soothe our tongues, Mock turtle soup—and after that a roast. Cook well the meat! Its outside crisp and hard, Its inside red and glorious to the sight! And mark ye well, fit company for this Potatoes brown and spinach freshly green. Spaghetti with fine cheese goes hand in hand ; A salad next of crispy escarole. Avaunt desserts! We do not eat them here. We take our fruit instead, and coffee clear!” The new cook, her eyes transfixed on her mistress, fasci- nated with her dramatic manner, stood in open-mouthed wonder, “ Sure, ma’am,” she said, ‘I hope I understand you.” Said Mrs, Dimpleton : “ Prepare the dinner, as you hope for Heaven, And don’t forget!) We e at half-past seven!" “There,” she said to her husband, as she entered the living-room where he was making some notes for his own instructions, ‘‘ I think I have made myself plain.” « Well,” said Dimpleton, “ we'll wait and see.” comicbooks.com