Life — December 16, 1915 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Weavers of Speech Upon the magic looms of the Bell System, tens of millions of telephone messages are daily woven into a mar- velous fabric, representing the count- less activities of a busy people. Day and night, invisible hands shift the shuttles to and fro, weaving the thoughts of men and women intoa pattern which, if it could be seen as a tapestry, would tell a dramatic story of our business and social life. In its warp and woof would mingle success and failure, triumph and trag- edy, joy and sorrow, sentiment and shop-talk, heart emotions and million- dollar deals. The weavers are the 70,000 Bell op- erators. Out of sight of the subscribers, AMERICAN TELEPHONE AND TELEGRAPH COMPANY | these weavers of speech sit silently at | the switchboards, swiftly and skillfully interlacing the cords which guide the human voice over the country in all directions. Whether a man wants his neighbor in town, or some one in a far-away state; whether the calls come one or ten a minute, the work of the operators is ever the same—making direct, instant communication everywhere possible. This is Bell Service. Not only is it necessary to provide the facilities for the weaving of speech, but these facil- ities must be vitalized with the skill and intelligence which, in the Bell System, have made Universal Service the privilege of the millions. AND ASSOCIATED COMPANIES Universal Service Purely Psychologic met for the first time. She bowed and smiled. He gazed at her furtively. He saw that she was good-looking. nearer. He grabbed her before she could get av He advanced. She retreated. He came He threw his arms about her, He clasped her close. He banged her head down on his shoulder. With super- human strength he pressed his lips to hers. She struggled. He persisted. She screamed, and with a mighty effort tore herself away. “ How dare you? I will have you arrested. “What do you mean?” she exclaimed. I have never seen you before. You are an utter stranger. What explanation have you to make of your dastardly conduct?” Suddenly he realized what he had done. me!” he muttered. “I am not to blame. He buried his face in his hands.“ Forgive T have been looking at so many love-scenes in the movies lately that I forgot where I was.” The Feminist F man could be the Mother, Why there need not be a pause In the progress of creation, And 'twould help along the cause— For we must rush upon the world In quest of loud applause— We have no time for Motherhood, A handicap that hores! Nor will we enter any home, But just live out of doors, And deal a blow where’er we can To all of nature’s laws. Creation as it’s been before Seems terribly unfair— We want to be as bold as brass And just as free as air, Our mental process is the same As the Nude upon the Stair— You could not chide her very well For coming down so bare— For 'tis only by the title That you know that she is there— Thus: Who can tell what we may do, Stand back—beware! For the Feminist is the Cubist From canvas come to life; To dash about at random Where there's any sign of strife. We'd like to go to Mexico Where war just now is rife: How gladly would we step in line To sound of drum and fife— With a mind just like a demon, Z And a tongue just like a knife— Z Declaring ne'er again will we Become a lawful wife. We're like the female spider Who is known to eat her mate— y, She rounds him up within the web 4 For a dreadful téte-d-téte, And then she chews him up alive— It is an awful fate— You'd think that man would run away Before it is too late. For we decided long ago That he was out-of-date— The woman movement everywhere Has wiped him off the slate. M. B. F. > Tareyton London Cigarettes comicbooks.com