Life, 1921-12-29 · page 13 of 35
Life — December 29, 1921 — page 13: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a short story by Rollin Kirby alongside three comic panels below. The top illustration satirizes a man frantically trying to extinguish a fire at a fire hydrant while a car passes by—a visual pun on "into the rough" (golf terminology). The three panels below appear to be unrelated slapstick comics featuring a rotund character. The captions—"The Ku Klux Klan!", "!!!", and "I'll say it worked!!"—suggest these are mocking the KKK, likely depicting the organization as ridiculous or ineffectual through physical comedy rather than direct political critique. The story itself concerns a dinner party anecdote about Oscar Dish and family matters, written in early-20th-century satirical style typical of *Life* magazine's social commentary.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
HE fact that I should have known better did not help matters any, nor make my loss any easier to bear. I had forgotten it. Yesterday evening, at the Twings’ little dinner, when everything was mov- ing along splendidly I reached for it, fecling that the time was propitious. It was gone! “Are you ill?” said Mrs. Twing, lean- i forward towards me. My face must have been deathly pale. No, no,” I cried. “I—last night—at the Marbleheads’—last time I remember —you'll excuse me”—and I bolted. In the street I hailed a cruising taxi. “Columbus 8200,” I cried, as I stepped in. What’s that?” said the driver. [ mean—I mean 947 West 77th.” | dashed past the doorman, and into the elevator. “12,” T panted. | was admitted by Margaret, the Marbleheads’ little Irish maid, a pretty, Into the Rough alert little girl with twinkling eyes. “They are at table, sir,” she said. “T'll go right in,” I said. And I did. “Last night,” I began, “I left some- thing here. I wonder if any of you saw it?” Marblehead, who had been making the evening for his family by telling them how that afternoon Oscar Dish, who used to be with him with the Bucyrus Wire Spring Company, had been in, and how Oscar had said that if the war could only have lasted six months longer, he could have told the rest of the world to go by, only the war didn’t last, paused in his narrative. “You left something? What was it?” “Tt was only a little thing of no great importance,” I replied, “but I had had it for a long while, and I had grown very fond of it.” Mrs. Marblehead and her daughter Jooked at each other and then back to me. “What was it?” they said. “It was only a little joke—I wonder if any of you saw it?” I replied. “Last night, you say?” asked Mar- blehead. “Yes, last night.” “A little joke?” mused Mrs. Marble- head, tapping her teeth with her lor- gnette. ‘“Didn’t see any little joke. Did you see it, Snuffle?” Snuffle was the only daughter, so called because of her hoydenish ways. Snuffle stood by her mother and father. “Well,” I said finally, “I must be trot- ting. I’m sorry to have disturbed your dinner. If you find it, you'll lay it aside for me, won't you?” Out in the hall Margaret, as she helped me on with my overcoat, said: “T saw it, Mr. Hostetter. It was the one about the Mexican jumping bean, and the man from Boston who made home brew.” “That's it!” I cried. “Bless you, my child,” and I tucked the little thing into the pocket of my dinner jacket. I could feel it cuddle down. Rollin Kirby. “The Ku Klux Klan!” “Tll say it worked!!” comicbooks.com