Life, 1916-07-27 · page 3 of 32
Life — July 27, 1916 — page 3: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces: **Top illustration:** A camping scene captioned "Harry volunteered to bring in a mess of fish for supper." The sketch shows a man at a campsite with multiple tents and people. The humor appears to be a domestic comedy setup—likely Harry overcommitted to providing food but may fail to deliver. **Bottom content:** A poem titled "In Memory of an American Aviator Killed in France" by Christopher Morley, honoring a pilot who died in World War I. This is serious, patriotic verse about sacrifice. **Right column:** A humorous dialogue titled "Playing Golf with Another Man's Wife," depicting a couple's banter about golf etiquette and performance. The wife playfully needles the husband about his golfing abilities while they play. The page mixes lighthearted domestic humor with solemn wartime remembrance—typical of Life magazine's satirical but patriotic approach during the WWI era.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
HARRY VOLUNTEERED TO BRING IN A MESS OF FISH FOR SUPPER In Memory of an American Aviator Killed in France OT at his own dear country’s call, But answering to another voice, He gave to Liberty his all, Nor faltered in his choice, His young and ardent heart was coined Into a golden seal for France; Above his breast two flags are joined; He lies beyond mischance. And we, remembering whence came Our Goddess where the sea-tide runs, Nobly acquit the noble claim She has upon our sons. Who dies for France, for us he dies, For all that gentle is and fair: God prosper, in those friendly skies, Our chivalry of air. Christopher Morley. Playing Golf with Another Man's Wife HE: Would you mind teeing up my ball? Thank you; perhaps a little higher; John says I ought to have my tees lower but somehow I never dare try. Shall 1 go? (She drives and goes about twenty feet.) How dreadful! (cheerfully): That's nothing! One never expects to play for the first three holes. (He drives and goes about twenty-two feet.) You see! Sue: Never mind. What club would you use here? He: The grass is pretty long! I think under the conditions I should use an iron, Sue (calmly taking out her brassy): Yes, I suppose I should; but one can always go so much further with a brassy. (She tops the ball, which goes about ten feet.) How dreadful! He: Never mind! (Savagely driv- ing his ball with his iron out of the grass nearly one hundred yards.) Sue: Wonderful! John says you play such a consistent game. He: The last time I played with John it cost me ten dollars Sue: What! You don’t play for money, do you? John says— He: Oh, never! I broke four clubs. (At the end of the eighteenth hole her score is 108. He has a bad 110.) Sune: It was awfully good ef you to put up with me. He: Good! The pleasure is mine. After all, it isn't your score that counts. It’s the exerci Sue: Thank you so much. (Later to John.) He told me I played some simply wonderful shots and said I was developing a great game. There! He: Of course you are, dear. (Later to him.) Say, old man, how do you like lying to another man’s wife —instead of your own? comicbooks.com