Life, 1906-11-01 · page 16 of 56
Life — November 1, 1906 — page 16: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct pieces of content: **"A Plea for the Small Boy"** is a humorous essay with an accompanying illustration. It presents a sympathetic defense of mischievous boys, arguing that despite their destructive behavior (breaking windows, spilling things, making noise), they perform genuinely helpful tasks. The "debit and credit" accounting format creates comedy by showing that a boy's good deeds—running errands, helping family members—balance against his chaos. The piece appeals to parental patience and affection. **"A Woman's Confessional"** advertises a book by Helena Woljeska, promoting it as witty yet sincere observations drawn from actual female experience—a counterpoint to trend-chasing epigram literature. **The remaining content** consists of period advertisements: a Chickering piano endorsement, a Knox hat ad, and a Philadelphia Record joke about marriage. The page is typical early-20th-century *Life* magazine: a mix of light satire, social commentary, and commercial advertising aimed at middle-class readers.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
HE Chickeng Piano poueses thw qualies which wn and wil endure The peculiar charm of its tone has Been the despair of ie imitators, It responsive touch and general mechanical perfection make it the favorite instru iment alike for teacher and virtuovo. Its reftement of nish, makes it a thing of artistic beauty, and the absolute honesty in every detail of material and workmanship gives & those saying powers that make i possible to find Chickering Pianos made in 626 io good condition to-day, Est. 1823. Catalogue upon request, CHICKERING & SONS, 796 Tremont Street, BOSTON A Plea for the Small Boy NDERNEATH his boastful little ways, his independence, the hard little shell of that is really petrified shyness, the Small Boy's heart is in the right place. It fills a big part of his little interior. A gentle probing and you are likely to touch it anywhere. Suppose his hands are past redemption for a white boy’s hands; suppose he leaves smirches and bangs and apple- cores in his turbulent little wake, never shuts doors, shouts nerve-rackingly, spills things, breaks things, stirs things up—I know, but look at the other side. Here is a mother’s debit and credit account with her Small Boy, kept for a single day: BOBBY. Dr. Broke parlor window. Lost hose nozzle. Upset palm. Spilled mucilage. Spilled milk. Forgot to mail letters. Forgot to get yeast-cake. Tracked Maggie's floor. Waked baby twice. Said five “Gee whizzes.” BOBBY. Cr. Went up-stairs on errands seven times Went down-town on errands three times. A Woman’s Confessional Te apothegm, Platonism and epigram have been done to death in recent smart literature. Incited thereto by the popular success of several publications of short and more or less witty paragraphs, some writers seem to have gone epigram-mad. Although expressed in epigram form, the truths in Madame Helena Woljeska’s “A Woman’s Confessional” are not intended to be “smart.” They are drawn from teal life, from actual experience, bitter at times, joyous at others, but all expressing some phase of a life that has been lived. Some of them may express erroneous views, but they throb with vivid aduality. Seventy-five cents postpaid LIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 17 West Thitty-first Street, New York City ‘Threaded grandma’s needles. Spread out Maggie's clothes. Mended baby’s lamb Picked up threads on carpet Weeded Didn't say “Gee whiz” a dozen times Annie Hamilton Donnell, in Harper's Bazar. GHE (inking of her trousseau): ‘This geting married is certainly a trial, He: Well, it isn’t half so bad as working out the sentence.— Philadelphia Record The stability, the finish, the unquestioned style of a KNOX H make it at once the most. satisfactory and Sx economical of invest- ments, , bes ene Knox silk hats are be MLW YORK coming for every height. comicbooks.com ‘an oe