Life — January 26, 1922 — page 4: what you’re looking at

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

Sanctum Talk Se ELLO, Lire.” “Hello, Eugene Debs. Do you expect to be condoled or congratu- lated?” “What do you think, Lire?” “Well, you missed the ceremonies at- tendant upon the burial of the unknown scidier.” “But that—” “Yes, if you had been released then, the creation of a morbid sympathy in your favor might have been clfilled.” “You mean—” “I mean, Mr. Debs, roughly speaking, that you were maintained in jail at the expense of the taxpayers until the right moment when—” “But you know, Lire, I am so sin- cere.” “How commonplace !” “And I have such a lovely disposi- “Which is enough to make a national hero out of you? Well, there may be something to that.” “But my brand of disloyalty is so un- selfish !” “My dear Debs, don't misunderstand me. I am quite possibly almost the only one who really appreciates your ex- traordinary powers.” “What, Lire! You really get me?” “Yes, Mr. Debs, I am immodest enough to think that I get you per- fectly. You are essentially an accom- plished actor, and like all really great actors you include even yourself in the illusion you have created.” “Me an actor!” “One of our very best—that is, since Bryan. The whole country is your stage, and politicians are your proper- ties. And Martyrdom is your motif. And you have the essential technique of all great artists—you are so simple.” “Um. I suppose that in order to con- form to your standard of humor, it would now be proper for me to remark that I am not the only one who is sim. ple.” “That would be superfluous, Mr, Debs. My readers, who are not unin- telligent, will get that anyway.” “But, Lrre,~in terming me an art- ist, aren’t you complimenting me too highly ?” “Candidly, Mr. Debs, I think I may be. The tricks you use. are as old as the hills: to pose as a saviour; to get yourself locked up at the proper mo- ment, and to get yourself released at what seems the proper moment; to be advertised as a monopolist of love, and to have it repeated of you that you are such a nice man personally—dear me, what an old act.” “But they seem—” “My dear Debs, you may not know it, but you have already bored a large part of us to tears—and to-morrow? Why, the baseball season will open, and the Infamous Filminating Company will be charming us with some new photographic atrocity. Go on and leave me.” “G-g-good morning, Lire.” TLeM; Page Mr. Burbank ANY, many years ago, In the Garden of Eden, Eve wandered In innocent and unclothed contentment Then she ate the Fatal Fruit. . . She made an apron Of fig leaves, And through the ages The idea of clothes developed, And so did the clothes, Until the ladies went about Swathed from neck to toe; Like the devil, disguised by raiment. But by and by The effects of the apple diminish, And so did the clothes, Till now... The ladies rival Eve, Wandering in blasé and unclothed con- tentment. ... It might be a good thing If Mr. Burbank would try his hand at cultivating Another Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. goodly began to “A MAN from the tailor’s, sir.” “Tell him I can’t pay his bill, but I'll be around to-morrow to order another J suit.” comicbooks.com