Life — September 21, 1916 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

“LIFE: HoLos LiKE AN ANCHOR The Name Insures Correctness Just as the label of a responsible tailor certifies ihe correctness of your dress sult, 20 tive pame Funvantecn she eorrecinesy of Sour vest buttons and cuff Tinks. You will thow Rrements Dress Sets by the name. Kre- ments on the back and by the bodkin elatch on the stods and vest buttons—the strongest, the est and the only absolutely fool-proof aides” No springy or solder, poihing w break. easy to insert. impossible to om oose. ‘The better dealers can show you the 1916 designs at prices ranging from $$ and Gp per eet, sold with ths guarante “Af damaged from ANY we wl i A Culture Club UT in Chicago there is a Culture Club, but that is all we know about it. We have been afraid to gather in the details, lest in doing so we might become so enamored of the idea as to forsake all the material things of life and plunge ourselves unreservedly into its alluring maelstrom. Of course, a Culture Club must be a place where a culture is acquired, and undoubtedly culture is a fine thing to have. Many of us, if we had the time, would like nothing better than to sit in the library or the music room or the art gallery or the bar or on the piazza of “e's TH! BEST LITTLE POY T EVER SAW, ALWAYS SPILLING SOMETHING!" a well-conducted Culture Club and ab- sorb culture on the twenty-four-hour-per- day plan, And even for those who haven't time for much culture—and there are, no doubt, many such in Chicago— it must be nice to know of a culture dis- pensary where you can go and get as much as you need or as much as you can pay for. Let other cities emulate Chicago's example, even if they don’t feel the same need for culture that Chicago fecls. It won't do any of us harm to lay aside a little culture for a rainy day. E.0.J. IDOWER McGURK: ‘Tis a big price to pay for a coffin! Unvertaxer O'Baine: A big price! And manny's the married man wud pay twice as much for th’ same privilege and jump at th’ chance! Aren’t you tired of your dancing partner? Doesn’t his talk of stocks bore you to death? Don’t you wish he’d get a new theory of the war? Wouldn’t you weep on his collar with joy if he eased up on politics and the tariff P Has he ever evolved a new thought since dear old Euripides died? Don’t you wish some kindly gen- tleman would take her away from you? Aren’t you weary of dancing with her? Isn’t she fat, forty and fashionless? Don’t you wish she'd twitter about something besides her diet list and her dachshund? Don’t you long for some kindly philanthropist to take her away? Well, then, let VANITY FAIR Cut In! We'll give you a dance with a little novelty. We'll let a ray of sunshine into that dark- ened life of yours. We won't bore you with the tariff, or the stock-market, or the relation-of-capital-to-labor, or the seven reasons why a business man ought to exer- cise before shaving. Instead, we'll give you a regular Class A party. We'll show Allyou needis one simple little dollar, to bring you six months of the mer- riest, maddest partner in the world—Vanity Fair. You don’t even need to send the dollar now; just sign and mail the coupon and dance away with the current issue of Vanity Fai safely tucked away under your arm. There’s a Way to Signal ee for a New Partner! you the latest bizarréries of the Tango- worms; the cabaret haunts of the wake- elevens. We'll teach you how to libre on your shirt-bosom, how ‘a without hat-pins, and a Newport dowager from asea-lion, We'll give you the dance of your life. May we cut in? aCe FASS < s MIDS Just tear off tke coupon!