Life — June 10, 1909 — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

*LIFE- Deportmental Ditties BY HARRY GRAHAM The Proposal In distant pre-Victorian days, When sentiment was still the fashion, And lovers chose becoming ways To advertise their passion, The etiquette prescribed by Cupid Was not considered dull or stupid. The ardent suitor of that date, Who sought a maiden’s hand in marriage, Would drive in state to her front gate, In his ancestral carriage; And thence with mien correct and knightly, Proceed to pay his court politely. When Strephon doffed his beaver hat, And humbly knelt before his goddess, Poor Chloe's heart went pit-a-pat, In her brocaded bodice, And while he cut these courtly capers, She shricked and swooned and had “ the vapors."” Then he would kiss her snowy brow, And chafe her lily hands discreetly As, on his knees, he told her how, His heart was hers completely Till, in a semi-dazed condition They went to ask Papa's permission. Alas! the world has changed to-day! How modernized both wooed and wooer! Chloe is now a coryphi Strephon a wealthy brewer! She smiles on picture-posteards sweetly. While he signs checks extremely neatly. Or else he is a peer, unblest, By dollars, and not too romantic. And she, from somewhere in the West,— An heiress Transatlantic. Gold to his happiness is vital; She feels the same about a title. He does not hire a coach and four, To bear him to his lady's dwelling; A motor lands him at her door, Strident and evil-smelling. Disguised in coonskins, like his “ shover.”” He seems more Golliwog than lover! a CRUELTY TO ANIMALS The Mouse: Sur OUGHT TO BE AR- RESTED FOR STARVING When, thus suitably arrayed, He finds his fair inamorata HER CALVES, Playing (with pianola’s aid) A Hackenschmidt sonata— Cacophony enough to deafen An even more phlegmatic Strephon !— He does not fall upon his knees, Nor grovel on the ground before her— Gymnastical displays like these, He knows would only bore her— But speaks’ in accents far from tender, Toasting his coat-tails at the fender. “Oh, by the way,’ you hear him say, “ Chloe—before I quite forget it’ “TI wish you'd marry me, some day, “ Really you won’t regret it. “How would next Friday fortnight suit you? “ And—may—I—what they call, ‘salute you'?’* “Why, yes,’ she answers, with a smile, “But, please don’t disarrange my hair, dear ”’ “We'll meet on Friday, in the aisle, “T'll certainly be there, dear. “Just send a posteard to remind me, “The Ladies’ Club will always find me.” Then lawyers enter, unabashed, The Wedding March politely humming, To see that checks are duly cashed, And coronets forthcomi While friends arrange those pleasing orgies Associated with St. George's. One relative goes off to seek, A bishop, all complete with gaiters; Another hastens to bespeak, A wedding-cake and waiters; A.third buys “favor” for the flymen And other requisites of Hymen. Acquaintances in Strephon’s set Send gifts and warm congratulations, While people she has never met Solicit invitations By loading the bewildered Chloe With presents that are cheap but showy. “A Love Match,” says the kindly press— Since 'tis the proper thing to do so— While lady-journalists assess The value of the trousseau: ‘Lill Cupid from their presence rushes, And slinks away to hide his blushes. comicbooks.com