Life, 1915-02-18 · page 29 of 44
Life — February 18, 1915 — page 29: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This satirical piece mocks the social awkwardness of Christmas gift-giving among office colleagues. Whittler has sent Dobson a Christmas package to his office, intending it for Dobson's family. Dobson cleverly exposes the impracticality: since Dobson's wife and children never visit his office, Whittler must have actually intended the gifts for *Dobson to regift* to others next Christmas—solving Dobson's own gift-giving burden. The satire targets the absurd logic people use to rationalize uncomfortable social situations. Dobson's elaborate explanation both shames Whittler for his thoughtless gesture and humorously reframes it as intentional charity. The piece satirizes workplace gift-giving customs and the polite fictions people maintain to avoid confronting social missteps. The small cartoon below (Mr. Snail) appears unrelated—a separate joke about telephone complaints.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“HOLD IT, MISTER, WE CAN MAKE IT!” An Imaginary Interview S Whittler opened the door of his friend Dobson's office, his eye lighted on a rather large package, tied up with red ribbons, that was lying in a remote corner. Dobson saw him looking at it, and his face lighted up. “Ah! old fellow,” he said. “I see that you are looking at the Christ- mas package that you sent me.” “Well, yes—you see, Christmas is now so long past that I thought——” “Exactly. You thought that possibly I might have opened up that package, and—” “But there are things in it for your family. I don't understand.” Dobson looked at him in surprise. “Why, my dear fellow,” he replied, “T didn’t know you intended those things for my family.” “Why not?” “Well, because there was no way for my family to get them. You know my wife and children never come to my office.” There was a painful silence. Dob- son went on, “T had quite another idea about it,” he said. “I knew, of course, that you didn’t expect me to take that package home with me just before Christmas. Naturally no real friend would ask that. I also knew that you didn’t expect me to have them sent out to my house by express. You wouldn't do a thing like that. Express charges are not as a rule paid by the recipients of Christmas gifts. And so the fact that you sent them to my office could only lead me to one conclusion. 1 have assumed, pending any better knowledge, that you intended those presents for me to use next year, and thus help me solve the Christmas prob- lem. Your delicate sense of friend- ship has suggested to you long in ad- vance that you could do nothing better than to send here some things that will, during the next Christmas sea- son, be an aid to me in the distribution of my own presents.” Whittler sprang forward. filled with tears. “My dear boy!” he exclaimed, clasping his friend by the hand. “How can I thank you enough for this little piece of friendly satire. I realize my offense. You have taught me a lesson, and I hope many others who make a practice of sending their friends’ Christmas presents to their offices. You are indeed a true lover of humanity.” His eyes Mr. Snail: 1's conc To MAKE A COMPLAINT AnOUT TILES! % TRLS; 17°8 SOMETIEY THR 'SPRED with WITCH CONNECT YOU WITH THE PARTY YOU WANT