Well, well, Mr. Cranky Pants, what’s on your mind? Are you sour because we don’t know who you are? You’re not Disraeli. No. You’re…well, you’re someone American. I’d have a better chance identifying you if you were British. But, I have no clue.
Why are you on a trade card, Mr. Cranky Pants? Are you trying to sell us Scrofula tonic? Do you want us to know that you make the world’s best shoes? Perhaps canned meats are your line. We’ll never know. No one ever printed the reverse of the card. It couldn’t be that you’re a stock card. No. Who would pick you? You couldn’t sell perfume? Nor could you endorse ladies’ hats and trimmings. I wouldn’t feel compelled to buy coffee from you. You make me sad, because you’re sad.
And, so, we’ll mock you.
Let’s have a caption contest for this poor, lonely, disgruntled antique lithograph.
The thunderstorm is scaring Bertie, so make your answers funny so he can be distracted. Answers in the comments section, please.
Oh...also, if you know who he is, I'd like to know, too.