Chapter 3

THE FRENCH IDEA OF NEUTRALITY

“We must surely do something to preserve our neutrality.”

“There is no doubt about it. We must surely do something to preserve neutrality.”

“As we were saying, we must beyond doubt do something to preserve neutrality.”

“Yes, sir! We will notify the Russians that they must leave French waters.”

“I BEG TO REPORT, YOUR MAJESTY, THAT THE BALTIC FLEET HAS ARRIVED AT VLADIVOSTOK”

TAKING HIS PLACE

A GIRL IN SUMMER-TIME

Her First Pair of Jumpers—“Am I a little boy now, mama?”

A GIRL IN SUMMER-TIME

Her First Fishing Trip—“I wonder if the fish know I am here.”

A GIRL IN SUMMER-TIME

“Oh, mamma! Look at the watermelon tree!”

A GIRL IN SUMMER-TIME

“Did you really think I was a strange little boy, papa?”

A GIRL IN SUMMER-TIME

Between Two Deadly Perils

THE DAY AFTER RED SUNDAY IN ST. PETERSBURG

BUT HIS SOUL GOES MARCHING ON

THE IROQUOIS FIRE

[CARTOON PRINTED JAN. 1, 1904]

HIS SUNDAY DINNER

[AFTER THE IROQUOIS FIRE]

MRS. SCADSWORTH GOES AWAY FOR HER HEALTH

The Doctor—“What you need, Mrs. Scadsworth, is lots of outdoor exercise—horseback riding, walking, mountain air.”

Mrs. Scadsworth arrives at the mountain resort and takes some exercise between the breakfast room and the card room.

Where she and her friends start a game of Bridge.

Which continues without interruption during her stay in the mountains.

THE LATEST INNOVATION IN NEW YORK

Professor—“Is there any solitude in the world greater than that of a stranger in a great city?”

“Well, surely, a man need not be lonely with an institution like that close at hand.”

Professor—“I like intellectual ladies, but I’m afraid she’s too intellectual for me. I’ll hire No. 20.”

The Professor and his guide, No. 20, see the sights.

THE LATEST FRENCH DUEL: OR, HOW AN INSULT TO JOAN OF ARC WAS AVENGED

THE FARMER OF FICTION AND REALITY

The Popular Novelist—“Now I’m going to write a great novel on American farm life and I think I’ll go out and find the real type—the kind with chin whiskers who says: ‘B’ gosh, I’ll jest swan to Guiney.’”

“Say, Bub, I’m looking for a typical farmer like this. Do you know of any farmers around here?”“My Pa’s a farmer, but he’s gone over to town to get a new tire for his auto. You might ask Ma, over there. She’s reading about the yacht races.”

“Great Scott! is this the farmer of to-day? I haven’t heard any of them say ‘B’ gosh, I’ll jest swan to Guiney,’ and none of them looks like the jay pictures.”

“Won’t you stay for supper and drive over to the Chautauqua meeting afterward?”“No, thank you; I’m going back to town.”

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CITY FELLER THAT WENT OUT IN THE CORN BELT AND CRITICISED THE HOT SPELL

Farmers (inspecting corn crop)—“Well, boys, things look mighty blue for a good corn crop unless we get some good, sweltering hot weather pretty soon. The corn looks mighty skimpy. Just look at them ears—they ought to lop over instead of standin’ straight up.”

“Hooray! That’s the stuff, Mr. Sun. You can’t make it too hot for us. Just listen to the corn grow.”

The Sewing-Machine Agent—“Morning, gents. Hain’t this sun fierce? I wish it would blow up a frost or a good heavy rain and cool off things a bit.”

A MESSAGE FROM THE FRONT, OR, RATHER, WHERE THEY PUT UP A FRONT

“My Dear Husband—I arrived here last evening, and O, I’m having the loveliest time. It is perfectly grand here—all so quiet and restful, too. This morning I intended to take a long walk before breakfast, but the maid was so slow in hooking me up that breakfast was all over when I got down.”

“After taking a bite or two I put on my riding habit, but by that time it was so near the luncheon hour that I decided to wait until after I had eaten. And besides, I found that I could get no horse. I wore my embroidered grenadine at luncheon. It was really the prettiest gown on the veranda. I’m just having a perfectly lovely time here!”

“We all intended to walk over to the golf links after luncheon, but when I had put on my walking suit it was time to dress for dinner. So we walked a little way and then returned.”

“The big dining-room was perfectly gorgeous. It was all lit up, and so were all the women. I wore my new lace net robe trimmed with Russian applique, and I really was very easy to look at, although the men all strained their eyes. This has been a heavenly day, and I do so wish you were here, but, poor boy, I suppose you must stay at home and work. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy this unconventional life after my long winter of endless dinners and receptions. It is such a relief to be able to do as one pleases. Please have Hester send me the new gowns as soon as they come from the dressmaker’s, as I positively have nothing to wear.”—Your Devoted Wife.

ANOTHER BOARD OF INQUIRY

“What is father striking for, mother? Higher wages?”“No, dear. The wages are satisfactory.”“Is he striking for shorter hours?”“No, dear. The hours are satisfactory. It’s a sympathetic strike.”“Sympathy for us, mother?”“No, dear.”

WHAT IS THE MOST INTENSE HAPPINESS THAT A HUMAN CAN FEEL?

Is it This—“Well, Bill, you won’t have to hang to-morrow. The governor has signed your reprieve.”

Or is it This—“There! your last tooth is filled and you won’t have to come again for years.”

Or is it This—“Hooray, Charley! your ticket has won the capital prize in the lottery!”

No, it is this.

WHAT IS ABSOLUTE UNHAPPINESS?

Is it that which is experienced by the poor North Pole seeker whose ship is wrecked, leaving him stranded on an iceberg with nothing to eat but candles, and nothing to drink but dew, and no dew at that?

Or is it the shipwrecked mariner who has drifted for many days on the face of the deep with no place to land but on the shores of an island inhabited by anti-vegetarians?

Or is it the poor Christian who is on the eve of playing an important part in a Turkish massacre?

No! The only real misery is that felt by the small boy who has to go to school this fine circus weather.

THE ANNUAL TRAGEDY

AS HE WOULD HAVE LOOKED IN MODERN GARB

DECORATION DAY

“Well, which story shall I tell you—the one about the time I was wounded, or the time I swam the river after the chickens?”

THE FOURTH OF JULY

Nice Old Gentleman—“Well, my young friend, I suppose you know what this glorious holiday means?”Young Gentleman, Celebrating—“Sure, but I don’t care. My pa’s a doctor.”

THE FIFTH OF JULY—CALLING THE ROLL

Adapted from a famous old poem

“Benjamin Jones!” the father cried;“Here!” was the answer loud and clear,From the lips of the youngster standing near;And “here!” was the word the next replied.“Johnnie Jones!” and a silence fellThis time no answer followed the call;Only his brother saw him fall,Killed or wounded, he could not tell.There they stood in the morning lightOn July the fifth, the present year,And the roll was read in accents clearBy the senior Jones, who was ghastly white.“Charley Jones!” at the call there cameTwo ambulance men and some doleful groansAs they bore in the body of Charley Jones,Greatly disfigured, to answer his name.“Albert Jones!” and a voice said “here!”“Chauncey Jones!” “He’s down at St. Luke’sWith a couple of badly damaged ‘dukes,’The doctors say he’ll be well next year.”“William Jones!”—then some one said:“A small toy pistol went off and shot him,And the ambulance people hurried and got himTo make some repairs on his injured head.”’Twas a gallant day but it cost us dear;For that family roll when called to-day,Of a total of seven that entered the fray,Numbered but four that answered “here!”

“Benjamin Jones!” the father cried;

“Here!” was the answer loud and clear,

From the lips of the youngster standing near;

And “here!” was the word the next replied.

“Johnnie Jones!” and a silence fell

This time no answer followed the call;

Only his brother saw him fall,

Killed or wounded, he could not tell.

There they stood in the morning lightOn July the fifth, the present year,And the roll was read in accents clearBy the senior Jones, who was ghastly white.“Charley Jones!” at the call there cameTwo ambulance men and some doleful groansAs they bore in the body of Charley Jones,Greatly disfigured, to answer his name.

There they stood in the morning light

On July the fifth, the present year,

And the roll was read in accents clear

By the senior Jones, who was ghastly white.

“Charley Jones!” at the call there came

Two ambulance men and some doleful groans

As they bore in the body of Charley Jones,

Greatly disfigured, to answer his name.

“Albert Jones!” and a voice said “here!”“Chauncey Jones!” “He’s down at St. Luke’sWith a couple of badly damaged ‘dukes,’The doctors say he’ll be well next year.”“William Jones!”—then some one said:“A small toy pistol went off and shot him,And the ambulance people hurried and got himTo make some repairs on his injured head.”

“Albert Jones!” and a voice said “here!”

“Chauncey Jones!” “He’s down at St. Luke’s

With a couple of badly damaged ‘dukes,’

The doctors say he’ll be well next year.”

“William Jones!”—then some one said:

“A small toy pistol went off and shot him,

And the ambulance people hurried and got him

To make some repairs on his injured head.”

’Twas a gallant day but it cost us dear;For that family roll when called to-day,Of a total of seven that entered the fray,Numbered but four that answered “here!”

’Twas a gallant day but it cost us dear;

For that family roll when called to-day,

Of a total of seven that entered the fray,

Numbered but four that answered “here!”

HIS THANKSGIVING DINNER

“I s’pose they’re just sitting down to dinner now.”

IMPORTANT NEWS

“We’re gunna have ice-cream for supper.”

SUDDEN INCREASE IN DEATH RATE SINCE THE BASE BALL SEASON OPENED

“Me brudder said to give ut to youse.”“Ah, this is very sad. What caused your poorgrandmother’s untimely end?”“Sir?”“What did she die of?”“Don’t it say in de letter?”“No, Jimmy has not mentioned the disease. Wasit pneumonia?”“Yes, sir.”“Was she sick long?”“Sir?”“How long was she sick? A couple of years?”“Yes, sir.”“So Jimmy’s home with his grandmother now?”“No, sir.”“Where is he?”“He’s waitin’ outside.”

ON DECORATION DAY

“You bet I’m goin’ to be a soldier, too, like my Uncle David, when I grow up.”

THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

“Gee! I wonder how soon recess is?”

THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING

“Ma says mebbe if we’re good we can eat at the first table to-morrow.”

WE ARE NOW APPROACHING THE TIME WHEN EVERY HOME IS FILLED WITH MYSTERIOUS INTRIGUE AND CONSPIRACY

Mamma—“Don’t come in here, children! Run out and play like a good little girl and boy.”

Papa—“Don’t come in here! Run out and play, kids. Run along now.”

“I wonder why everybody always wants us to run out and play. I wonder why.”

“CHRISTMAS IS COMING”

PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS SHOPPING

“I s’pose that R.S.V.P. means ‘Remember to Send Valuable Presents.’”

THREE SUNDAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS TREES

“We want to go to the Sunday-school. Where is it at?”

THE SILENT PARTNER OF THE FIRM OF SANTA CLAUS & CO.

ON THE GREAT EVENTFUL MORNING

“And now is it Christmas, mamma?”“Yes, dear, this is Christmas morning at last.”“Why it looks just like any other day. I thought it was gunna be bigger. It looks bigger on the calendar.”

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT HAS BEEN MADE AN HONORARY COLONEL OF A BRITISH REGIMENT

Extract from “London Times,” August 18, 1911—In the war maneuvres yesterday, Honorary Colonel Roosevelt, of the Brixton Rough Riders, led his regiment in an extraordinarily fine charge up Ludgate Hill, arriving at the top some hours before his regiment. The king witnessed the charge from a safe position on the obelisk. There was quite a panic in Lombard Street, many of the leading financiers hastily retiring to Hyde Park upon hearing that the gallant colonel was to make the charge. Some of them are still missing, but doubtless will soon be found. One hundred and sixty women fainted, nineteen horses ran away, and one unfortunate man had his leg broken while trying to climb Trafalgar Monument. The dome of St. Paul’s will be repaired within the next fortnight.

SOCIAL HAPPENINGS IN WASHINGTON, D.C.

The President Receives a few Delegations of Visitors in the State Dining-Room at the White House.

MISS ROOSEVELT ATTENDS THE HORSE SHOW

CAMPAIGN POEMS AND PORTRAITS BY PROMINENT POLITICIANS

Mr. Cleveland’s Picture of Himself and Miss Democracy.

CAMPAIGN PORTRAITS AND POEMS

President Roosevelt, by Vox Populi

“THE REPUBLICAN DERBY”

On the Eve of the Republican Convention

HUMORS OF THE REPUBLICAN CONVENTION

The Delegate—“They say the night of June 21 is the shortest of the year, but, by geminy, it seems the longest to me.”

The editor of the“Anaconda Avalanche”finds that they have not made provision for his staff.

The Lay of the Delegate—“I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls.”

AFTER THE REPUBLICAN CONVENTION

News From the Firing Line

MR. CLEVELAND—“I WON’T RUN ANOTHER STEP”

NOMINATING THE DEMOCRATIC CANDIDATE FOR VICE-PRESIDENT

“Gentlemen of the convention, I rise to nominate for Vice-President that peerless statesman, that grand old Jeffersonian Democrat, that wealthy patriot, Mr.—Mr.—ahem—Mr.—”

“—that wealthy patriot, Mr. Davis, whose name is a household word in Elkins, West Virginia. It is moved and seconded that the nomination be made unanimous.”

“He is therefore nominated and the convention is adjourned.”

GROVER—“I WASN’T VERY HUNGRY ANYHOW.”

A SAD CASE OF DESERTION

Late Wednesday night a dark figure was seen to emerge from the neighboring gloom and deposit a mysterious bundle in the middle of a vast and lonely prairie. Plaintive cries were heard to issue from the bundle.

The figure then stealthily departed, leaving the bundle in the midst of the prairie.

No important clues were left by which the identity of the dark figure could be traced. A close search developed several slight clues, which, though slight, may lead to detection. A copy of the Kansas City platform was found nearby; also a copy of “The Commoner”; also a card marked “W.J.B.”; also a well-thumbed photograph of Grover Cleveland; and also several bound volumes of speeches, entitled “Free Silver Speeches, by W. J. Bryan.” The child that was deserted had its name artistically worked on a bib and was very weak from long exposure.

SOME FORGED CAMPAIGN LETTERS

DOWN WITH THE WORKINGMAN

To Patrick Mc Graw, President Amalgamated Order of Honest Workmen.

Sir:—

Your letter received. Personally, I consider the request that you make should more appropriately be presented to the mayor or your city. At the same time I cannot miss this opportunity to say a few things about labor organizations in general. I think organized labor is a serious menace to the welfare of our institutions; and I further think that any man who belongs to a Union should be treated as a criminal. There is no good in Unions. Every man who belongs to one is worse than an anarchist. If I am elected my first official act shall be to have every man who belongs to a labor union expelled from the country or de-naturalized. Furthermore, I think that men who work for a living have no license to live anyway.

Yours respectfully, Theodore Rosefelt [** signature]

HURRAH FOR WALL STREET

ROSEMONT FARM

Mr. J. Pierpont Morgan, 952 Wall Street, New York City.

Dear Friend:—

Thanks for your very friendly letter. I am much encouraged by the news you send and am very glad to hear that the sentiment is so favorable to me. John D. called on me yesterday and left a substantial check, which, of course, will not be recorded in his name. It is needless to say that if I am elected my gratitude will assure a very substantial form and my friends in Wall Street need never fear that their prosperity will be jeopardized by any official act of mine. I shall be in New York Saturday and should like to see you privately at the Metropolitan Club. Mr. Baer, of the Reading Road, will also join us there.

Yours gratefully, Alton P. Barker [** signature]

THE HONEST FARMER IS A JAY.

George K. Jamison, Chairman Hancock County Republican Control Com. Dear Sir:—

I regret very much that I cannot manage to speak before the Farmers’ Institute next Thursday afternoon. I have a luncheon engagement with the President of the Michigan Northern Road and cannot break it. Please express my regrets and say that I hope the farmers, who are the bone and sinew of this great nation, will come forward and do their duty on election day.

Yours respectfully, [** signature illegible]

THE LABORING CLASSES ARE GETTING TOO MUCH MONEY.

OFFICE OF THE

CONSOLIDATED COAL MINING CO.

To Stephen Elkins, Washington.

Dear Son-in-Law:—

I shall be home Thursday. Am very tired and worn out. I do not believe that I can keep up this pace for six months more. My back aches, I fainted from over-exhaustion yesterday, and the only food I can eat is pre-digested milk. Please have Murphy, the foreman of the mine, discharge the laborers who are agitating for higher wages. We are now paying them 80 cents a day and what can these ignorant German and Irish laborers expect? They never earned that much at home and yet they dare to come over here and make these preposterous demands. I never could tolerate the Germans and Irish anyway. However, do not mention this fact before election day.

Yours affectionately, Henry G Davids [** signature]

MAYOR HARRISON’S CONFERENCE WITH JUDGE PARKER AT HOTEL SEVILLE, NEW YORK

Mayor Harrison to Judge Parker—“Judge Parker, I promise you the electoral vote of Illinois. And more than that—”

“I promise you the electoral vote of Wisconsin! And that is not all—”

“I promise you the electoral vote of Indiana! And while I’m at it—”

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