Life — June 30, 1904 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

634 words with the husband of her bosom, who weighed 107 pounds, and sorter reminded you in certain ways of a goose in a hailstorm, “At last, she laid her work down, and, according to the testimony of the attending physician and clergyman, died, and entered into her eternal re: But two hours, or such a matter, later, she opened her eyes and inquired if her and hadn't failed, with his usual absentmindedness, to Having been assured, by word of mouth ight of the such was not the case, she it held up outside of the window sighed satisfied! And all of us who had known her s respected her accordingly said it just like her; and her husband wore sort of a chastenedly apprehensive look for quite a spell afterwards, and would kind of dodge when spoken to hastily—for he knew very well that in spite of himself he sometimes forgot to wipe his muddy feet on the mat, and that, while washing the dishes on the third day after the funeral, he had accidentally let a good. of soap slide down the sink-drain and couldn't get it out.” Tom P. Morgan. ed piece The Ten-Cent Monthly Magazine. FEW years ago a tall and lanky literary man, with an Earl of Pawtucket mustache, broke loose from custom and an- nounced the birth of the ten-cent. monthly. Since then, new ones, like Some- s Bonbons, are “fresh That thirty-five cent af- fair, appealing mainly to men over forty, who wear heavy gold watch chains and think William Dean Howells equal to Dickens, still serenely goes on, but the leading dime maga- zines, which are trying to put the other various priced popular magazines in com- panionship with the dodo, hav much larger circulation, One thing nice about this kind of periodical is that it doesn’t matter whether you're Lizzie Peabody of Lima, Ohio, or a United script pleases the editor, it career for many aspirants. The boy whose ambition in life until he reached thirteen was to be a conductor on the B, and Z. Division of the J. K.L., now develops into a languid youth with hazy dreams of going to the First National Bank and cashing a check for five hundred dollars, which ‘* Nobody’: paid him for his last short story; the pale-faced girl who hs just finished Smith or Vassar is sure that she can win fame and money by magazine work; and the sentimental mar- ried wi n imagines she has a message for the world. These periodicals foster this vast army taken down with the magazine-writing fever; and many individuals who, so long as your manu- pted. Thus it provides a -LIFE- after treading off the map, get a Mason's fruit jar with geraniums in it on their resting-place, die with the knowl- edge that some of their best thoughts fluttered before the public eye. A cardinal feature of the ten-cent monthly is the adver- tisements. If, when reading ‘Why Did She Do It?” by Alonzo Whatell, you find it bores you, turn to the rear and revel in the masterly lines cf a Schlitz ‘¢ad.” ‘The stories of these magazines usually live only a few weeks after their publication—posterity can politely, but firmly, go to! Wilson Naylor. Advice to a Household Cat. S you sit before the blazing fire, reflect that the wood being consumed, presumably for your benefit, costs all the way from nine dollars to fifteen dollars a cord, Make yourself uneasy over this, if possible. Wonder occasionally where your next meal is coming from. Consider the uncertainty of life and the possibility of your not having the next meal at all, and make yourself nervous over it. Let your dreams be troubled. All about you there are suffering, trials, disappointments, agonies and general misery, Let it be on your mind that you may be the next one, and then, every time you wake up and change your tail, you will be conscious of a deep sense of oppression. Worry about your coat. Nature has arranged it so that it is thicker in the winter than it isin the summer, but this may not always be so, At any time, by some perversity of Providence, you might begin to shed your hair at the beginning of a cold snap; this is fully enough to give you cause for alarm, Learn to control your muscles. prone, they are hopelessly relaxed. This style went out long ago. Keep them taut and firm and strung up, ready for any emergency ; ready, for example, to jump when an automobile is coming your way. . Beas unnatura possible, It is bad form to be yourself. It shows a hopeless disregard for Philosophy, Science and the higher education. When you meow, do it in secret. i bad form to meow openly. And remember this: unless you strive to be all these things, you can never hope to be anything else but a cat, Addison Fox, Jr. At present, as you lie “naxps Ur!"