Life, 1921-07-07 · page 5 of 34
Life — July 7, 1921 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct pieces: a poem titled "Life" by Dorothy Parker, a short story called "The Return," and a separate comic section titled "Simple." The main illustration depicts a scene from "The Return" story—a woman (Olga Petrinoff) being led from a prison courtyard, meeting with a man named Sergius. The narrative describes her release and emotional reunion. The "Golf Fiend" caption below the illustration is satirical, depicting a man telling his wife he must attend church on Sunday, when he's actually going to play golf—a common domestic comedy trope about men prioritizing leisure over religious/family obligations. The "Simple" section appears to be the start of another story about office workplace dynamics. This represents typical Life magazine content: literary fiction, poetry, and gentle social satire about everyday American life.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Idyl By DOROTHY PARKER HINK of the things that can never come true— Save in the shadowy country of dreams. Think of what might be, for me and for you, Could we but shatter the world’s sorry schemes. Think of our own little vine-covered nest; Each day, at sunset, I’d wait for you there, Down by the gate, in the glow of the west, Dressed all in white, with a rose in my hair. The Return HE sun was shining brightly upon the snow as Olga Petrinoff was led into the court- yard of the prison. The sudden transi- tion from the gloom of her cell to the glare of the outside world dazzled her. For a moment the of the sun that ad been for so long denied to her made her forget why they had brought her here. And then she remem- bered that to-day was to be her last. They were leading her to her doom. Mechanically she followed her guards along the path that led to the scaffold, trying not to show the fear that was in * her, while the world seemed to totter and tremble under her feet. Then as in a dream she saw strange shapes hurtle over the wall, heard shots and the rattle of weapons, saw Nicholas Nichola- vitch rush towards her, his face dis- torted with rage, saw him clutch his breast and fall to the ground, and then she Golf Fiend: Isabel, I wish you wouldn’t tell me every Sunday that I ought to go to Church. I get to feeling so conscience- 6E03 Think of a chair, softly-cushioned and wide; Think of a hearth, where the red firelight dies; Think of me sitting there, close by your sid Reading the stories writ deep in your eyes. Think of the years, like an unending song, Think of a quiet we never have known. While, all forgotten, the world rolls along, Think of us two, in a world of our own. Now that you’ve thought of it seriously— Isn’t it great that it never can be? felt strong hands bearing her away... When the mists cleared she found herself in a_ sleigh with Sergius Maskin- off beside her, his left hand in a bandage and the other grasp- ing a revolver. Realizing what was required of her she grasped the reins and turned to the horses. Sergius looked up at her with a smile. “Well, little dove,” he said, “your friends have not forgotten you. Now what do you say?” “Giddap,” replied Olga. THE END. Harvey Kent. Simple “[™ sorry, sir,” protested the private secretary, “but there’s no such word in the diction- ary.” “Then tell the pro- motion department to write a new one and get it in!” thundered the captain of in- dustry. “[™M afraid that one tire is going to blow out.” “No, it won’t. We are too near a stricken it puts me off my game. garage.” comicbooks.com