Life — September 22, 1921 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

A Harrowing Scene at the Bedside of Mr. Josiah Wallstreet GEORGE S, CHAPPELL CALLED at the hospital yesterday to see my old friend, Josiah Wallstreet, and really, I was shocked at the poor chap’s appearance. I had heard that he was under the weather—a general breakdown.I was told—but I was in no way prepared to find him in such a deplorable condition. “May I see Mr. Wallstreet?” I asked when I presented my card at the visitors’ wicket. The answer was not reassuring. “Possibly,” said the official. “He is scarcely visible to the naked eye. Room twenty, second floor.” I wandered down a corridor odorous of rubber-tiling and anesthetic, and, finding the door half open, entered the room quietly. A sad sight met my gaze. An efficient-looking nurse came softly toward me. “Quiet, please,” she said. “I am Miss Babson. He js sleeping.” In lowered tones we conversed by the window. “How is he?” I inquired. “His temperature was off an eighth at the opening,” she said with professional calm. “Dr. Bullish came in to see him yesterday and he rallied quite sharply, but he has had several sinking spells since. I was just working on his chart.” A glance at the document which she handed me showed the gradual sinking of my old companion; the temperature- curve ran sharply toward the lower right-hand corner. ih | a 1 het < Circumstantial “My dear, I’m beginning to think Mazie is in love.” “Nonsense. Why?’ “I caught her trying to light her lipstick.” comicbooks.com “pe “ eral led. has poo