Life — April 14, 1910 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

bir E* \WHIST WAS RAMPANT IN ENGLAND IN 1778, AS WELL AS HEAD-DRFSSES. THIS CARICATURE IS REPRODUCED FROM WRIGHT'S HIS(ORY. THE TILE IS “SETTLING THE opp TRICK.” A Catalectic Monody ! A cat I sing, of famous memory, Though catachrestical my song may be In a small garden catacomb she lies, And cataclysms fill her comrades’ eyes; Borne on the air, the catacoustic song Swells with ker virtues’ catalogue along; No cataplasm should lengthen out her years, Though mourning friends shed cataracts of tears. Once loud and strong, her catechist-like voice It dwindled to a catcall’s squeaking noise; Most categorical her virtues shown, nation join’d each one to one; atchpoll dog, with cruel bite ¢ catling’s cut, her strength disabled quite; Her caterwauling pierced the heavy air, ts their arms through legions bear ; s caterpillars drag away Their lengths, like cattle after busy day, She ling’ring died, nor left in kit-kat the Embodiment of this catastrophe. George Cruikshank’s Omnibus. The Story of a Dog and Empty Hole LY HENRY WARD BEECHER (Henry Ward Beecher’s fame as a minister has over- shadowed his fo as a humorist; and yeé as a humorist he is in the first rank. The following little sketch is told with an exquisite sense of quiet fun.) The first summer which we spent at Lenox we had along a very intelligent dog named Noble. He was learned in many things and by his dog lore excited the undying admiration of all the children, But there were some things which Noble could never learn, Having on one oc- casion scen a red squirrel run into a hole in a stone wall, he could not be persuaded that he was not there for ever- more. Several red squirrels lived close to the house and had become familiar, but not tame. They kept up a regular romp with Noble. They would come down from the maple tree with provoking coolness; they would run along the fence almost within reach; they would cock their tails and sail across the road to the barn, and yet there was such a well timed calculation under this apparent rashness that Noble invariably arrived at the critical spot just as the squirrel left it. On one occasion Noble was so close upon his red backed friend that, unable to get up the maple tree, he dodged into a hole in the wall, ran through the chinks, emerged ata little distance and sprung into the tree. The intense enthusiasm of the dog at that hole can hardly be described. He filled it full of barking. He pawed and scratched as if undermining a bastion. Standing off at a little distance, he would pierce the hole with a gaze as in- tense and fixed as if he were trying magnetism upon it Then, with tail extended, and every hair thereon electrified, he would rush at the hole with prodigious onslaught. The imaginary squirrel haunted Noble ‘night and day. The very squirrel himself would run up before his face into the tree, and, crouched in a crotch, would sit silently watching the whole process of bombarding the empty hole with great sobriety and relish. But Noble would allow of no doubts. His conviction that that hole had a squirrel in it continued unshaken for six weeks. When all other occupations failed, the hole remained for him. When there were no more chickens to harry, no pigs to bite, no cattle to chase, no children to romp with, no expeditions to make with the grown folks, and when he had slept all that his dog skin would hold, he would walk out of the yard, yawn and stretch himself, and then look wistfully at the hole, as if thinking to himself, “ Well, as there is nothing else to do, | may as well try that hole again!” Epigrams From the French Paradise, as described by the theologians, seems to me too musical. I confess that I should be incapable of listen- ing to a cantata that would last ten thousand years. —T. Gautier. AI] bow to virtue—and then walk away. Unidentified. Love makes us thin. If a codfish were a widow, she would become fat —Provencal Proverb. The change of fashions is the tax that the industry of the poor levies on the vanity of the rich. —Cham fort. A widow is like a frigate of which the firstecaptain has been shipwrecked —A. Karr. NOTHING WAS SACRED TO THE EGYPTIAN ARTISTS EVEN DRUNKENNESS, THIS PICTURE 1S REPRODUCED FROM AN OLD FGYPTIAN ORIGINAL, AND SHOWS THE SERVANTS CARRY- ING HOME THEIR MASTERS FROM A DINNER. comicbooks.com