Life, 1909-09-02 · page 16 of 48
Life — September 2, 1909 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story satirizes theatrical management and animal performers in early 20th-century vaudeville. The narrator manages a trained mouse act featuring "Miss Felicity" (the star) and a performing dog called "the Corporal." The narrative's dark humor lies in its mock-tragic tone applied to trivial stakes: a manager's desperate effort to save his star performer from a mousetrap. The illustrations show the comedic tension—the Corporal heroically rescues Miss Felicity despite illness, only for the ungrateful mouse to attack him in revenge. The satire targets theatrical vanity and the absurdity of treating animals as temperamental prima donnas deserving mourning bands. The overwrought language ("transfixed with horror," "death's door") applied to a mouse's near-accident heightens the joke. The Corporal becomes a tragic hero—faithful, misunderstood, and sacrificed for an ungrateful star—inverting typical theatrical hierarchies while mocking the sentimentality managers applied to their animal performers.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
MAN WANTS BUT LITTLE HERE BF- LOW, BUT WANTS THAT LITTLE LONG. ing like human beings and valuable like, always had the best attention from every one on the road. And here when I came back from a walk and opened the door softly. so as not to disturb the Corporal lying down there in his special box by the radiator, what do I see but Miss Felicity, just poking her head into one of them painted mouse traps the bey had set there. Would you believe it? The little devil "h PRrE wanted to see if she'd nibble. My! As if there was anything Felicity won't nibble! Such a little glutton as she is! And you know, being the star of the troupe, my! but you have no idea how perverse she is! Well, there was Miss Felicity, and me calling her softly to come away, and she paying no attention! I couldn't move forward, you know, to pick her up, for what with her contrary nature, as like as not she would have run right into the trap out of sheer cussedness. Oh, I haven't been managing them female artists for years—and in the mice line they're just as had—without knowing their ways, I can tell you, And, sir, will you believe me, there I stands, transfixed with horror, my blood running cold and my hair standing on end and the other things you can think of, with Miss Felicity at death’s door, and the Corporal, too, for that matter, lying there, with no squeak left in him. Of course, it was quicker than all the time I'm taking to tell it. One of them crises you read about. And then I leans for- ward slightly—with my breath coming and and thinks I, “It’s up to the Cor- so I whispers, “Eh, Corporal, nip ‘er, nip er." And you ought to sce him! He kinder straightened up in his wool and pulled himself together. And I could see he was making a mighty effort. But it only goes to show what will power will do, for he ups and outs in a second. And there was Miss Felicity, sitting in front of the trap. And when the Cor- poral sees her he kinder hangs back, “cause you know it was like sacrilege to do it, and no one dared to touch the star. And then I urges him on, “Nip says I. “Come now, Corporal, have a heart," says I, “and nip 'er;" and with that the Corporal staggers forward and grabs her by the tail, which gives me the needed moment to pick up the trap, only, you know, I hadn't counted on Felicity’s temper. And, insulted as she was by be- ing taken as she thought for only a com- mon artist, she turns on the Corporal, weak as he was with the sickness, and grabs him by the neck before I could lay a hand over her. Never, oh, never, shall I forget the look the Corporal gives me, for having done his duty and me not being able to explain! Only it was just like ‘is saying to me, “It's all right, old pal. I knows you didn’t mean it; and, anyways, I done what you ast me to.” And I picks him gently up, but it was too late, and I knows it was too late when T sees him close his sir, you sce Miss wearing the black band there, and please God, she shall always wear it in his honor, so long as I’m manager of this inimitable troupe. T. L. Bf, Blasted comicbooks.com