Life, 1912-07-11 · page 17 of 44
Life — July 11, 1912 — page 17: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two satirical pieces from *Life* magazine. **"An Emotional Drama"** (by Carolyn Wells) is a tongue-in-cheek prose sketch mocking overwrought domestic melodrama. It describes a couple's escalating emotional outburst—taunt, tears, invectives, broken voice—rendered in exaggerated, theatrical language. The joke: when their maid enters and simply dusts, the "debris" is literal, deflating the pretense of their emotional turmoil into mundane reality. **"The Passionate Suburbanite to His Love"** (by Arthur Guiterman) is comic verse satirizing the suburban booster mentality. A man relentlessly cajoles his love to abandon the city and join him in commuting from Westchester County and Long Island suburbs. He rhapsodizes over place names (Dobbs Ferry, New Rochelle, Tuxedo) as romantic paradises, repeatedly pleading "won't you commute, Love, with me?" The satire targets both suburban real-estate enthusiasm and the desperate, repetitive sales-pitch tone of the suitor's appeal.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
He: rt's THAT An Emotional Drama HE stood, calm and majestic, await- ing his arrival, As he entered the room she threw him a sharp glance. A little embarrassed, he scattered his eyesight, whereupon she flung him a litter taunt. Goaded beyond endur- ance, he hurled invectives, and she burst into tears. Then his voice broke; she cast down her eyes, her face fell, and she dropped her hands at her side. He lost his head, his temples were overturned and his courage oozed out at his finger ends. He was beside himself, and stood rooted to the spot She crushed him with a look, and he was all broken up. She, too, was terribly upset and went all to pieces. By chance the parlor-maid entered. Seeing the debris, she swept the room with a glance and immediately dusted. Carolyn Wells. IDIOT, JENKS. The Passionate Suburbanite to His Love OMMUTE with me, merr, How vain in the City to dwell When apple-trees blow in Dobbs’ Ferry And lilacs adorn New Rochelle! White Plains is the Garden of Allah And Petham’s the Pearl of the Sea; There's bliss in the name of Valhalla— , fly to the Suburbs with me! Love, and be Then won't you commute ticket? To Westchester County we'll flee. Delightful Westchester, What place is sequester! Oh, won't you commute, Love, with m ny family I'll pluck you the earliest crocus In Orange of Englewood, fair: We'll sport on the meads of Hohokus, We'll ramble through Cultured Mont- clair We'll rest in Exclusive Tuxedo, Or Nutley, for artists renowned, And still shall T carol “The Suburbs are ny credo, aradise Found.” HE'S ALWAYS BUTTING IN! Then won't you commute on ticket ? Perhaps you prefer New For who could grow weary Of life on the Erie! Then commute, ersee, won't you Love, me? The Isle ‘twixt the Sound and the Ocean— Ah, has it no Message for you? i cannot but think with emotion Of Fl ica and Kev Of Bayshore, of youthful vacati of 1 eck, Great Neck and Q And all of the other Clam Stations, Including Speonk and Patchogue. Then come take a trip on my fa ticket Where Long Island breezes blow free. To live on the Is surely a dub way— Then fly to the Suburbs with me! Arthur Guitermen, comicbooks.com