Life — May 5, 1910 — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

THE NAST'S TWEED, PU WEEKLY, —From Th Paine. Copyright, Bigelow Paine, LISHED IN OCTOBER BRAINS OF TAMMANY RING HISTORIC CARICATURE OF BOSS “HARPER'S 1871, Jast, by Albert Bigelow 1894, by Albert 21, ECISESE istoric Lines by a Lunatic M.D. Oh! fair are the halls where stern Peritonitis Makes love to Miss Asthma and courts the Catarrh, Where the bright Influenza is wooed by Iritis, And Psora joins Measles in “ Beautiful Star.” Oh! bright gleam the eyes of that flirt Erythema, And lightly Pneumonia whirls around in the dance. Pleuritis is madly in love with CEdema, And Herpes courts Cholera with amorous glance. And old Mrs, Scabies told Mr. Phlebitis She'd brought Melanosis at last to the point: You know he's six thousand a year (Laryngitis Will find that this nose is a bit out of joint). Long, long I shall dream of that pet Scarlatina ; She gave me a rose from her rash at the ba On that thrice-happy night when Miss Gutta Serena _ _ . Kissed Captain Psoriasis out in the hall. Adieu, sweet Chorea! Farewell, Carcinoma! Hysteria, my heart with emotion doth swell That heart, Anascara, is thine; Atheroma And bonny Neuralgia, a lasting farewell! H. Saville Clarke REI SENTS THE POPE AS AN ASS. THE FOLLOWING INSCRIPTION : “A LONG EARED ASS CAN WITH THE BAGPIPES COPE AS WELL AS WITH pore.” IT HAS THEOLOGY THE Nomenclature of the National Game The possibilities of the English lan- guage have frequently been taxed to describe the great American game of baseball, but for striking illustration this from the Herald, of Quincy, Illi- nois, has rarely been equaled: “The glass-armed toy soldiers of this town were fed to the pigs yester day by the cadaverous Indian grave- robbers from Omaha. The flabby, one-lunged Reubens who represent the Gem City in the reckless rush for the baseball” pennant had their shins toasted by the basilisk-eyed cattle- drivers from the West. They stood around with gaping eyeballs, like a hen on a hot nail, and suffered the grizzly yawps of Omaha to run the bases until their necks were long with thirst. Hickey had more errors than Coin’s Financial School, and led the rheumatic procession to the morgue. The Quincys were full of straw and scrap-iron. They couldn't hit a brick- wagon with a pick-ax, and ran bases like pallbearers at a funeral, If three-base hits were growing on the back of every man’s neck they couldn't reach ’em with a feather duster. It looked as if the Amalgamated Union of South American, Hoodoos were in session for work in the thirty-third degree. The geezers stood about and whistled for help, and were so kK they couldn't lift a glass of beer if it had been all foam. Everything was. yellow, rocky and whangblasted, like a stigtossel full of doggle-gammon. The game was whiskered and frost- bitten. The Omahogs were bad enough, but the Quincy Brown Sox had their fins sewed up until they couldn't hold a crazy quilt unless it was tied around their necks.” —Anonymous, I cannot see why women are so de- sirous of imitating men. I could un- derstand the wish to be a boa con- strictor, a lion, or an elephant, but a man! that surpasses my comprehension. —T. Gautier. comicbooks.com