Life — January 5, 1922 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

Sanctum Talk Gs ELLO, Lire!” “Why, heilo, Joe Tumulty; how you did scare me. I thought at first it was George Creel. Sit down.” “Can't stop; I just dropped in to ask you if you will review my new book; and don’t try to be funny, either.” “Tell me what you mean.” “T mean, don’t refer to it as if I had written it about myself, instead of Woodrow Wilson; that’s old stuff.” “Well, what shall I say about it?” “Oh, you know; just hit it off in your own wonderful way; don’t ask me to write a book review; it’s bad enough to have to write a book.” “But, look here, Joe, did you have to wrive it? Wasn’t Woodrow Wilson bad enough ofi, anyway? Now, honest.” “There you go again; trying to be funny.” “T’m not, Joe; I am only trying to be serious; and it’s hard to be serious with a chap who takes himself as seriously geal “Come now, let’s be shamelessly bru- tal and honest and—” “As man to man.” “Well, as Irishman to Irishman. Is it true what they say about my book— that instead of vindicating Wilson, I have only made matters worse; that my facts are all wrong, that I can’t write?” “Why don’t you ask Henry Ford? He knows about non-historical books.” “But I want you to tell me, Lire. You have always been so fair to Me and Woodrow. Do I know anything about Woodrow, anyway?” “Probably not, Joe. Look here, what is this book you are talking about?” “Why, it’s a book called ‘Woodrow Wilson as I Knew Him,’ Now, for God’s sake, Lire, don’t joke about it; don’t begin by asking who Mr. Wilson is. Tell me! I want to be told.” “Good Lord! You talk as if you ex- pected me to read the book; really, Joe, old fellow, this is too much.” “But I know a fellow who’s read it.” “That’s a good one! Well, so long!” “Um—s’long, Lire.” Conscientious Burglar: to take back a hundred of this; a cent more would boost my income into the 30 per cent. tax class, Disarmament UOTH Cupid, “No more capers! Well, I have had my fling; I. see by all the papers, Disarmament’s the thing. “The world is tired of tooting, And tired of war’s alarms; The world gives up its shooting, The world lays down its arms. “The thought my spirit harrows,— But ‘I’m a patriot,—so, I’m going to scrap my arrows, I’m going to junk my bow. “And when / drop the curtain,— When all my tactics cease,— Of one thing I am certain, Some people will have peace!” Carolyn Wells. Going! Tue tired-looking commuter shook his head sadly. “Yes,” he added to his but half-in- terested fellow-travelers, “she was good, as cooks go,—and as cooks go, she went!” Right-O “Wnuo,” asked the professor of the student, “was Homer?” “The guy Babe Ruth knocked out,” was the reply. It Depends on the Gender “T say, governor, is a woman as old as she looks?” “Yes, my boy, and a man is only old when he stops looking.” ave to ask you comicbooks.com