Life — August 12, 1920 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

LOCAL GOSSIP Jed Lapham walked over to Truro last Tuesday. Miss Lapham told him he couldn't walk that fur. But he did, and when he come back Jed said he had a mind to get “an anchor and hitch to him so he could drop it when he got home and let it drag to slow him down He wuz afraid when he got his second wind he'd walk right by the house. The Ring with the Seven Keys ] F it were new or good enough to string New keys upon, it might show common sense To keep it; but what use a rusty ring, And what is there to argue in defence Of leaving on it seven rusty keys More useless than a row of blasted trees? The bookcase, bureau and old desk they fit Went up in smoke. This one unlocked the door That opened on my home; its cranky bit Annoyed me nightly till the night of war. As for the other three, I can’t recall How they were used, so thick that war-raised wall. Is it mad sentiment or madder hope Or a return to fetish-servitude Which makes me keep them, as a telescope Might help a blind man’s faith in sight renewed? Hostages? Nonsense! Yet their number, seven, Proves that in loss we find the seventh heaven. Richard Butler Glaenzer. By All Means Own an Audience! AVE you a little audience in your life—someone who's always willing to lend a ready ear to your tale of woe or your Pollyanna outpourings of joy—one who can be de- pended on to applaud at the psychological moment? Perhaps it has never occurred to you what a necessary ad- junct a perfectly good audience is to a well-rounded existence. Just as truly as that all the world’s a stage, does every mortal have something to say or sing, a tune to pipe or a dance to do. But who will stop, look and listen? There's the rub. It is this universal craving for the understanding listener that fills the beauty parlors, where suave attendants, between treatments, murmur diplomatic responses to domestic confi- dences; that causes the crusty business man to frequent daily the same quick lunch, all because a black-eyed waitress there remembers how he likes his coffee. Women marry to have an audience always at hand. The pretty, preening creatures are in constant need of someone to appreciate their changing moods, not to say apparel and all. And for what other possible reason would the average man marry, than to find some unsuspecting little home-maker who, between batches of biscuits, would find time to be an audience for his ancient jokes—one who couldn’t leave after the first act? Of course by the three hundred and sixty-fifth perform- ance her laughter might not be quite so spontaneons as at the premiére, but a bored listener is better than none at all. Not infrequently are the most congenial souls found outside the family. A great trouble with families, anyway, is that one never knows whether they are going to turn the cold hose of ridicule on one’s innermost thought or not. The gentle habit of occupying the limelight is acquired carly Surrounded by oh-ing and ah-ing relatives is life's first début made—the lure of the footlights becoming a cosmic urge from then on, Whether in later years one is cast for the role of a Galli-Curci, a Harry Lauder or a John Barrymore, the necessity for having someone to say “ Bravo!” grows apace. So with that excellent institution—the private audience. If you haven't one already, like the fire exits at the theatre, choose one now, not forgetting the asbestos curtain in case your victim tries to escape under a barrage of fire. Your work- ing day is not complete without a private little claque to shout “Encore!” Opulence PARKE: Well, I've just had a considerable increase in my income. Wonderful! Must be a great help. It has extended my credit so much that my wife can run into debt twice as much as she could.” HOW AN INGENIOUS FRIEND HELPED RAGS OUT OF A BAD FIX comicbooks.