Life, 1913-06-05 · page 20 of 52
Life — June 5, 1913 — page 20: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This poem satirizes newlywed wives and male vanity through ironic self-awareness. The bride confesses that she constantly repeats "my husband tells me" when praising herself—her baking, housekeeping, beauty, and charm. The satire works on two levels: she's either gullibly accepting her husband's flattery as objective truth, or she's using his supposed compliments as socially acceptable cover for shameless self-promotion (since a woman couldn't openly boast in this era). The illustration shows a couple on their honeymoon ("Bon Voyage"), reinforcing newlywed naïveté. The poem mocks both husbands who flatter their wives and wives who cite that flattery as evidence of their actual merit. It's gentle domestic satire typical of early-20th-century *Life* magazine—poking fun at marriage dynamics and gender expectations rather than political targets.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Y words are bright as they are wise, I have a pair of angel eyes And I can bake much better pies Than baker sells lly biscuits, too, are light as snow; No housework-seasoned wife can show Me any tricks. How do I know? My husband tells me. Some wives are so by taste forsook They can’t give home that homelike look ; But of our humble ingle-nook (Bad taste repels me) I've made a bower of sire To which an artist might aspire— How do I know this, you enquire? My husband tells me. heart’s de- “RON VOYAGE” A Bride’s Confession Though woman's chatter oft annoys, Jars by conceit, by sweetness cloys, To say the things one most enjoys Something impels me. When we dress up and go to dine T cannot help the way I shine Or that the sweetest gown is mine My husband tells me. Though 1 one?— The chops are sometimes overdone, My coffee often worse than none, That never quells me. For husband takes me in his arms And smooths away my least alarms— Mistakes add luster to my charms, My husband tells me. confess—why shouldn't Since John is such a truthful man, Built on the noblest Roman plan, Exaggerate he never can— Such thought repels me. So when I lean upon his sleeve Against that breast that can’t deceive, It's very pleasant to believe What husband tells me. Wallace Irwin. comicbooks.com