[Editorial Note: Thomas Nast (1840-1902) is often considered America's leading political cartoonist. He is especially known for his withering portraits of William Marcy ("Boss") Tweed and the members of his "Ring" of Tammany Hall politicians who ruled New York City in the late 1860s. Nast is also notorious for his anti-Catholic cartoons which contributed to a renewed wave of anti-immigrant sentiment in the 1870s. Nast's Almanac was very popular and the 1871 volume contained humorist G. P. Webster's poem, "A Dream of the Period" with Nast's illustrations. Together the poem and the drawings say a good deal about conventional notions of gender and gender roles.]

"A DREAM OF THE PERIOD," Nast's Illustrated Almanac for 1871 (N.Y.: McLoughlin Bros., 1870), Pp.56-63

P.57]A dream I dreamt and 'twas not all a dream-- Disorder reigned, all things reversed did seem; Women wore pantaloons, while men divine Wore silks and ribbons, curls and crinoline. I saw her proud, majestic, free from faults; Nor cared she for ferocious man's assaults, But sat her 'hobby' with defiant air Which seemed to say, "Come on all, you that dare." I saw men using powder lily white, And "Bloom of Youth;" it was a jolly sight To see them paint their eyebrows up with care, Then load their heads with other people's hair.

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[P.59]I saw a cruel husband instigating His wife to bloody deeds, she hesitating-- Just as that proud and bloody man, Macbeth, Drove his poor wife to murder and to death.

Othello killed his wife! Oh, no good fellow! 'Twas cruel Desdemona killed Othello-- Married him first and took him from his mother, And then her gentle husband she did smother.

A spirit whispered, "Let your heart rejoice In man's soft melody." His tuneful voice Yields sweeter strains and softer to the ear Than blue birds' notes, when blooming spring is near.

My neighbor Jones seemed happy for his wife--
Called him her pet, the comfort of her life,
And passed the time in coaxing and carressing [sic];
Oh, happy Jones, his wife was such a blessing!

Alone and sorrowful, day after day,
At home, I passed my time, my wife away--
Made business all her care, while, weeping, I
Was left alone to suffer and to sigh.

I mildly said, "My dear come early home;
I fear, my love, you are inclined to roam.
What kept you out last night?" She answered , "Bah!"
I stopped a moment at the opera.

And Jewett, Wright, and Kennedy were there,
Worn down by toil; it is no more than fair
That we should have a little recreation!
Now, don't get mad and call it dissipation.

I saw a woman to her loved one kneeling, Telling her love, and to his heart appealing; He blushed, and answered "No," and then relenting, Smiled, sighed, and answered Yes," at last consenting.

My wife went to the club, and took delight
In the "Sorosis" there, night after night;
She gave her time to feasting and to drinking,
Of her poor lonely husband never thinking.

And still I dreamed--imagine what my feeling, When home, long after midnight, she came reeling, And swore and grumbled while the door unlocking, And roused the neighbors by her noisy knocking. Roused by her rappings loud and furious ringing-- Bewildered, drowsy, sick, I heard her singing, And cried, "Oh, stop!" and then she did upbraid me, And said she only meant to serenade me.

Affairs of state seemed greatly to depress her; The wrongs of women too did much distress her. Said she, "You only have the grief you borrow, While I must share a suffering people's sorrow."