Life, 1920-03-25 · page 7 of 40
Life — March 25, 1920 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Life* magazine contains two distinct items: **"The Label"** (left): A humorous poem by Tudor Jenks describing the contents of a leather box labeled "Rubber Bands"—listing mundane items like pencils, safety pins, and old thumbtacks. The joke satirizes how such boxes mysteriously accumulate worthless junk over time. **"Historical Item"** (right): Social satire mourning the decline of jazz-age culture. The text laments that artistic cynicism has replaced genuine bohemian spirit, mentioning Harold Bell Wright and Mary Pickford as symbols of mainstream mediocrity. It suggests American culture has devolved into superficial "glucose"—suggesting saccharine, mass-market entertainment replacing authentic artistic expression. **The illustration** depicts a haunted house scene, likely accompanying the "House Haunters' Union" reference, though the connection to the text above is unclear.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Label UPox milady’s desk there stands A leather box marked “ Rubber Bands.” | raised the lid. I found within: \ pencil stub; one safety-pin; Some purple beads; three old thumbtacks ; Two canceled stamps; red sealing-wax; \ tangled string; four copper cents; Five rusty pens. And this contents s what (no doubt) she understands From that neat label—“ Rubber Bands.” Tudor Jenks. Historical Item HE age of jazz drawing to a close with much regret, the powers that be debated seriously as to what, in the order of progress, should come next. It was, therefore, determined that the next age should be one of glucose. “But,” declared one dissenter, “are we not glucose enough as it is? Harold Bell Wright and Mary Pickford are still with us, and artificial angels, with real wings and bearing wreaths, are now en régle at all funerals.” “This is not enough,” declared the committee. “ Unless we carry the thing to the very limit of hysteria we shall not be true Americans.” Thereupon all the cynics, and what artists there were, were deported, sob-stuff emporiums opened in every ham- let, and literary, business, conversational, family and hotel glucose became the order of the day and night. THE HOUSE HAUNTERS’ UNION DECIDES TO STRIKE FOR A FOUR-HOUR NIGHT comicbooks.com