A skeleton in a wide-brimmed hat leans forward, animated and almost gleeful, as it pursues a lady whose own bones are dressed in the stiff dignity of a Victorian gown. The scene is drawn with a brisk, satirical energy: the woman’s posture is prim, her skeletal hand clutching her skirt, while her pursuer’s grin is wide and unashamed. The artist’s bold, dark lines and sharp contrasts give the figures a sense of movement, as if they might step off the page at any moment.

Light falls across the lady’s dress, emphasizing its careful pleats and the absurdity of such finery on a skeleton. The whole image teeters between comedy and menace, inviting the viewer to laugh and shudder at the same time. Works like Skeleton Following a Lady by José Guadalupe Posada sprang from the vibrant world of late nineteenth-century Mexican printmaking, where satire and social commentary flourished in cheap broadsheets and street posters. Posada’s skeletons—calaveras—became icons of popular culture, mocking the pretensions of the living and reminding everyone that death is the great equalizer.

This print, created sometime between 1890 and 1910 and now in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, is part of that tradition. History has kept few traces of the individual stories behind such images, but their playful irreverence and biting humor remain as fresh as ever. Look closely, and you might catch the echo of laughter in the rattling bones.