Life, 1901-10-17 · page 8 of 20
Life — October 17, 1901 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 308 This page contains a story about golf, not political satire. The narrative describes a character named Tinkerton who has become upset during a golf tournament after losing to a girl. The accompanying photograph shows four men on a golf course in what appears to be an early 20th-century setting (based on clothing and image quality). The "satire" here is social rather than political: it's a humorous commentary on male pride and competitiveness. The humor centers on Tinkerton's wounded ego at being defeated by a female golfer—reflecting period attitudes about women's athletic capabilities. The story explores the tension between his irritation and his inability to openly blame her, highlighting contemporary gender dynamics and masculine insecurity regarding women's sports participation.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
308 Tinkerton half turned around. “Tourna- ment?” he sald, ‘I didn’t know this was tournament da “Oh,” replied George, ‘the boys and girls got it up just for fun this morning. Everybody in, you know. Better play around. May win.” Tinkerton strode out on the porch. “Hang that high ball!” he said. ‘It will lower my score by ten, Never mind. There's nothing else to do since that girl——"” He sat down and waxed reminiscent. “ How the devil v himself, ‘that t would and keep me back half an hour? isn’t what hurts me. couldn't trust me a minute. couldn't wait until I had come and explained the matter. Well, if she's that kind of a girl, she can go, that's all. Plenty more in the sea."* The worst of it v that Tinkerton knew there were not. Just then his c: came up. “ Here, Bud,” he sa vely, “take the bag and get out ahead. I might as well be floating around the links as eating my heart out.” He got up, took a ball out of his pocket, put it on the tee, swang around, and followed with his eye the white spot as it circled through the air. “That's short of a hundred and fifty,” he said to himself, critically, as he strode out over the red-coated green, . e . A ND the girl? ~~ She knew she was wrong the moment he left them, he knew she should have waited for him, and she knew so well—by his face, by the in- tonation of his voice, by something— that his reason for being late was a good one. She had been impulsive. She hated herself at times for that. But she couldn't have helped it. He didn't come, and, and—well, it was horrid of him, she thought, to keep her, HER, waiting—to sabject her to this slight strain of her vanity. She was not used to being kept waiting. And so she had gone off with the other And yet—she was wrong. Oh, yes, she knew she was wrong. If she only bad waited, and had him explain. It must © been something serious, What was it?) But wasn’t it horrid of him? To show so plainly? He man I to know,” he said to kid brother of mine ull off his wheel and break hisarm But that To think that girl To think she You didn’t wait?” shouldn't have done it. He should have waited for /er to explain herself. Oh, these impulsive men, to go off in a tangent! She wanted him to be calm and patient, and then, when they were alone, why, it would be all right in a moment. Now it might not be all right at all. She set her teeth to- gether. She didn’t care. She was mad. Sho was mad at herself, at him, at every one. The world was all wrong. “It is your stroke,” Mr. Howard ing, politely. ** she said in answer, *‘ so it She chose her club deliberately, and lofted over the bunker as if it were the easiest thing in the world, and as if that particular bunker had not always before been her Waterloo. Two men passed by. “Miss Gillson is playing the game of her life,’”’ said one man to the other, as they watched the stroke. . e . SHE was sitting on the porch as Tinkerton came up from the last green, with his score card in his hand. There wasa group around her. George was dancing. “What do you think?” he exclaimed to Tinkerton. “ Miss Gillson did it in ninety-nine. Isn’t it great? The best yet. That makes her score eighty-nino net, with the handicap off, and