Life — March 9, 1916 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

426 OH! WHAT A PITY!| THINGS THAT NEVER WERE A SYMPATHETIC OUTBURST FROM THE BYSTANDERS I Meet a Real Estate Agent HAVE always wanted to be on good terms h the real estate agent in my own home town. Calling upon him one day at his office, I said: “You are the only man in this town that [ don’t know real well. I feel that we ought to know each other better.” “You are right,” he said, taking off my watch and placing it in the safe, “I have often felt that way myself. You are a comparatively poor man now, but there is no telling what may hap- pen. Some day you might make a little money. In that case I should want to be friends with you.” “ Of course, you understand,” I said, carelessly removing his diamond stud and placing it in my cravat, “that we are probably both of us retiring by na- ture, and, well, rather sensitive. I make few new friends. I imagine you are the same. It comes from keeping close to one’s self—to being, as it were, too introspective.” . “Ah!” he exclaimed, shaking me warmly by the hand, as he slipped off my seal ring, “there you have it. In- trospectiveness has almost ruined me. It stands in my way continually. I could make twice the money I do if it weren't for that.” “I know it,” I replied, deftly re- moving his wallet from his inside pocket. “ That is what has drawn me to you. Sensitive, imaginative, intro- spective—we both are afflicted. But not to change the subject too rapidly —for I feel that I must be going, as I want to make a deposit in the bank opposite—let me ask you a question: Have you ever really robbed a bride and groom?” He sighed deeply as he took out my gold cigarette case and tossed it light ly into the correspondence tray. “ My dear fellow,” he said, “you touch me on a painful subject. I told a bride and groom the other day that their new house—which I sold them—was just thirty minutes from the City Hall. I told another couple that the house they were looking at was built of real wood and iron, instead of papier-maché. Life’s Short Story Contest HE careful reading of the eighty- one short stories printed in Lire’s short story contest has necessarily meant some delay in the announcement of the prize winners. But the work is going on, and we expect now to make the announcement in our issue of April 6th—the Easter Number. The Bible as a Serial HEY tell us that people don’t read the Bible nowadays. Which prompts the suggestion that America’s livest_ magazine might run some of the Old Testament as a ripping new serial, There’s lots of action, punch and plot in the Old Testament; some of the world’s best detec- tive stories are to be found there. The editor could cut his instalments in any length to suit the needs of the magazine and there would be no dan- ger of complaint from the author. Just think of the Bible as illustrated by Harrison Christy or Penrhyn Stan- laws. We feel sure it has elements of popularity, if properly handled. I’ve done many other things like this, but I can’t say that I have actually robbed a bride and groom.” “Never mind, old man, you will, you will,” I replied, as I got up to go. He smiled a wan smile. “I'm glad you feel that way, old chap,” he replied. “It gives me hope for the future, because—between you and me—I am the only one in this whole suburban town who hasn't.” T. LM. Poor Von Papen ON PAPEN got the Order of the Red Eagle, fourth class. Fourth class! Fourth class after his devoted ef- forts to put the neutrality of the United States on the blink! Is that all the importance the Kaiser attaches to the Germanization of these States? But possibly Von Pap would have got a bigger button if he hadn't been so unfortunate with his papers. comicbooks.com