Life, 1907-01-24 · page 11 of 24
Life — January 24, 1907 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The left side presents a humorous poem about a man with various mysterious attributes—he's described as "Big," "clean," "up with the Sun," and possesses a telephone. The repeated question-and-answer format builds comedic confusion about his identity and purpose. The right side features Sherlock Holmes arriving at a lodging on Baker Street (his famous address). Watson has just finished reading *Life* magazine and expresses surprise at Holmes's deductive abilities. Holmes mockingly explains his "deduction": Watson simply looked ridiculous while reading the magazine's jokes, which Holmes finds obvious rather than impressive. The satire targets both Holmes's legendary deductive prowess and *Life*'s comedic value—suggesting the magazine's humor is so obvious that even stating it seems absurd.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LIFE: 139 A Solution for the Young EE this Big Man! Is he not a Nice Man? See how Clean he looks. Was he Up with the Sun? Yes, he was still Up when the Sun came Up. Did the Cock Wake him Up? Yes, the Cock Woke him with its Tail. What Place is he in? He is Down-Town, at his Club. Does he Hit Hard with his Club? He tries to. What has the Man in his Why does he Put it in hi It is a Phone. He says Hell-o! hell-o! See! Now the Man can Hear it Talk. What Makes him Look so Glad? Why does he Laugh so Hard? I will Tell you. Hand? Ear? ikes to Hear it in the Phone. y he Sent her a Nosegay. “Thank you, Dear Old John. I will Come at One.” Then they will Go and Eat. See how the Man Laughs for Joy! What can the Man hear Now? It must Vex him. ait ES, 6 Is the Sweet Maid Cross? f a Cross Wire. And it is a Cross Voice. Not the Voice of a Best Maid. He Hears it. It says, “John Smith, is that you? I Know it is. I Know that Laugh. I have Come Home. My Mama Came too. I have Heard in the Phone. We will Both Come Down at One.” Whose is the Cross Voice? Is it his Cook ? iG) Oh, no! It is his Good Dame. &@ She had Gone to see her fat Ma. ™ But she Came Home too Soon. Now the Man will have Three Guests. He will be a Sad Man. Miss Rose Hardenburg, Hotel Lankershim, Los Angeles, Cal. A Master Mind's Solution HERLOCK came into our old lodgings on Baker Street. It was soon after one of his unfortunate resuscitations. “I observe, Watson,” he said to me, ‘that you finished reading your copy of Lire just thirty minutes ago.” I dis- played the usual surprise at his remark by the customary inanities. “You see,” he explained, “‘your face broke from stupidi into a smile just as I entered the room. It takes twenty mii utes for you to read Lire; fifty to see a joke. You were evi- dently laughing at the one on the front page, and will continue variably risible for half an hour—guod erat.” I turned maliciously to page 433 of my Lire. “Why did the old gentleman change countenance?” I inquired. Sherlock reached for the Lire and the hypodermic simultaneously. “Because the first one wasn’t satisfactory,” he ventured. Then, sobering, he muttered eagerly: ‘It’s evidently a woman at the phone; a man with a thing like that to tell wouldn’t miss the pleasure of secing the old codger’s face. And it’s one of his family—his wife—note the look of patient tolerance. Hah! that smile. I recognize the brand, Watson! She’s repeating one of Lire’s jokes to him. It tickles him immensely at first— but she tells him it’s out of Lire. He thinks of the paper's attitude on vivisection, and Anthony Comstock, and divorce, and automobiles, and the Theatrical Trust. He is offended, he is shocked. But the intelligence that she has sent $5.00 to Lire for a year’s subscription creates that feeling of speechless nausea.” ‘The great defective’s face cleared. “Write it up, Watson, and pocket the publisher’s proceeds, as always,” he said, with a pardonable lack of pride in his performance. Sent in by Ralph E. Dyar, 1005 University Avenue, S. E., Minneapolis, Minn. “OM, DEARI I'VE DROPPED MY PENNY AN'I S'POSE IT'LL GO RIGHT THROUGH THE EARTH AN’ SOME OF THOSE MORRID LITTLE HFATHENS ‘LL GET 1." comicbooks.com