Life, 1921-02-24 · page 13 of 32
Life — February 24, 1921 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**The Main Cartoon** depicts a social gathering where someone asks about a "memory-training system" that's benefited "Auntie." The humor satirizes self-improvement fads and their dubious effectiveness—the chorus responds "I forget," undermining the system's claimed success. **The Two Brief Jokes Below:** - "Amelioration" mocks the wealthy Van Astorbilt family's plan to move to the East Side, presented as social progress - "Forced to It" jokes about a clergyman preaching against Sunday golf because it's his only free day **"As Chaucer Might Have Told It"** is a literary parody poem (credited to Corinne Rockwell Swain) in Middle English style, humorously recounting a squire's son breaking his father's prized hen—a mock-heroic treatment of mundane domestic mishap. All pieces target upper-class pretension and self-deception.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Februory 24 “WHAT'S THE NAME OF THAT MEMORY-TRAINING SYSTEM THAT'S DONE US ALL SO MUCH GOOD? AUNTIE WANTS To TRY 17.” Chorus: Amelioration 1 SEE the Van Astorbilt’s are going to live on the East Side.” “Yes—a new movement for improving the condition of the tich.” As Chaucer T fel upon a daye, at earlie dawne, A worthie Squyer paced his statelich lawne ; He smeld the bloomynge floures and tendre grasse, And searched with careful eyghe his gardeyn sasse, To mark if nony bugges ther ben seene Upon the cowcumbere and juicye beene. But sodenly he frownd with fereful wrath, And stomped his fecte upon the gardeyn path; His eyghen saught a cherrye tree ful smal That al to-broken ben, and made to fall. Then colerik he sware, and boystrous cryed His litel sone to call unto his side. Ther com his litel George in duteous wyse, With schamfastnesse and downward casted eyghes: 1 FORGET. Forced to It “NYJELL, well! Our clergyman is preaching against Sunday golf, and he plays so cleverly himself.” “Well, it’s the only day in the week he’s too busy to play.” Might Have Told It That he was sore aferd no wonder be His fader’s frowne was somthynge ferce to seene. Then solempne to him his fader sed, “ How come this litel cherrye ben on de And litel George ful humble was and meke; His leggus quayked, but bravelie did he speke: “T cannot tel a lye, my fader deere, T did it with my litel hatchette hee He looked agast to se the storm y-brewynge, But seene amayzed that ther ben nothynge doynge. His fader's gruche ben turned to hevenliche joye, And lowde he cryed, “Come to my arms, my boye! I'd rader lose an hondred trees, in soothe, Than that my sone schoulde fayle to tel the truthe.” Corinne Rockwell Swain, comicbooks.com