Life — February 23, 1905 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

In the Nursery. MMY, with a thirst for gore, Nailed the baby to the door. Mother said, with humor quaint, “Sammy, dear, don’t mar the paint.” “Scribimus Indocti Doctique.” EYEe*s0p¥ scribbles nowadays. Why not 1? As a young English girl once said to me, ** You can turn it intohats."’ She y clever, that young h girl—she wrote lovely poems, and turned them into the dowdiest hats I've ever lied about. It seemed such an anticlimax! But the idea’s a good one, just the same. If one could only turn dowdy poems into beautiful hats’ There's one pa agraph. 1 wonder how many para phs it takes to mak a book? If I write three paragraphs a day every day for a year—Pshaw! It sounds like the hen-and-a-half problem ! But I really qavt to write a book, just tosee if Ican, I hate to think Hattie Williamsis cleverer than I am, she’: unattractive, poor dear! And there's another paragraph ! ‘The trouble is that on reading them over they don’t sound in the least /éfer- ary. 1 might just as well be talking. My style seems very higgledy-piggledy ; it doesn't ow as I wish it would—per- chaps, though, it’s because this pen stutters, Well, I must strive to improve it. But I don’t know exactly how to getat it. Lwonder how Mrs. Humphre Ward would have written the above three paragraphs ? Crane BIQNOEET a aa a & —— < ANO HAS HIM FOR DINNER. “CUE Es 215 Doctor Jap: INTERNAL TROUMLE And then there's another difficulty. 1 haven't quite made up my mind what to write about. Myse//—of course! What was it the old poet said about looking in your heart, etc. ? But there are so at myself, and it when one S ‘h, complex nature) to turn ones inside out, as I thought it would be. I wonder if it's quite the proper thing to do, anyway? Butif Idon’t write about myself, what shall I write about? (Now for confession No. 1.) I'm not nearly so interested in other people. Well, I've reached the bottom of the page, and that’s enough to begin with, to devote a little time, [ suppose, I wish the Loug to reading the best authors. best authors weren't all of them so hideously dull, Except Ibsen! [I rather like Ibsen ; he’s so brutal. T wonder if I could write a play like Hedda Gab- ler? Imagine, though ! What wor/d mamma say? That's the worst of being a girl—if you know things, you have to keep them to yourself. Well, I must stop, but T hate to—it’s such fun! I don't wonder everybody scribbles nowadays ! Lee Wilson Dodd. Crass Ignorance. A’ East Side kindergartner was about to give her class a lesson, with ‘The Kitten "’ as the subject. She began by saying: ‘ Our lesson this morning will be all about the kit- ten. Now, can any little boy, or girl, tell me which grows on the kitten—fur or feathers ?"" A dead silence followed for a min- ute, when one little boy said in a loud voice: ** G-o-o-d Lawd! Hain't een a kitten?” Archeological. A THOUGHTFUL friend in Mas- achusetts sends us the following. Curious how history re} you ne ALS its Conundre: rthed from a just un copy of the Talmud in Baby by Nebuchadnezzar to Daniel Q. Why is James S$. Metcalfe like a dn > . propounded A, Because he is a Klaw Daniel’s stubborn refusal to laugh precipi- jammer. tated the lion incident News Item. “PRK. BRADBURY, the well-known lecturer, delivered a lecture last night on * Lunac There were many present.” Probable. I" is feared in Russian naval circ that the Paris tribunal may con- demn the Hull shootin’ match, comicbooks.com .