Life, 1922-04-06 · page 10 of 38
Life — April 6, 1922 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces: **"My Movie Diary"** (left column) is a humorous weekly log by Torrey Ford documenting violent Western films he watched—"The Gutch," "Three-Gun Pete," "The Lure," etc.—culminating in shooting up the town, wounding animals and people. The satire critiques the era's proliferation of violent movie content and its potential influence on viewers. **"The Dress"** (right column) is a poem by S. M. P. about deciding what dress to wear, debating between Georgette, crepe de Chine, and black fabrics. The accompanying illustration shows a domestic interior scene with a mother and children, captioned with dialogue where "Bobbie" deflects responsibility for misbehavior to God, suggesting parental frustration with childhood discipline—likely satirizing modern parenting attitudes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
My Movie Diary (Being the true record of a young man whose parents believed in the educational value of the modern motion picture.) UNDAY—Saw “The Gultch.” 7 reals of thril. 4 kilt, 2 wunded. Toosday—“Three-Gun Pete,” the boy bandit. Grate fighter. 14 kilt, 9 wunded. Wensday—"Percy’s Perils.” 8th instalemant. Slick. 3 kilt, 1 wunded. Thrusday—“The Lure.” Punk pitcher. No killin, just kissin. 0 kilt, 0 wunded. Frieday—Duble feeture day. “The Fightin’ Parson” and “Bloody Bill Barnes.” 108 kilt, 200 wunded. Satday—“The Satan’s Saw.” Full of trics. 1 kilt, lots wunded. Sunday—No movies. Swiped Pop’s gun and shot up town. Kilt 2 dogs, 3 cats, and 1 cow. Wunded Red Myers thru the waste. In jale now. ‘Too bad. Torrey Ford. The Dress Y mind is made up, I will get some Georgette. Or maybe a fine crépe de Chine, I've decided that pink will be best, made quite short Though at night-time I look well in green. My mind is made up, there is nothing like black, I see by the style sheet it’s good; However, white dyes and ‘twould last me two years, That is, if I got it, it would. My mind is made up, I'll select a brocade, Something in silver or gold; After ail, maybe pink is a trifle too young And there’s time for all black when I'm old. My dress is made up! It's the stunningest thing ! Of velvet, embroidered—and long! I bought it so quickly, without any thought, But with blue one can never go wrong. Mother: Bobbie, why can’t you be good? Bobbie: Well, Mother, I’ve asked the Lord a dozen times to make me good, an’ I guess now it’s up to him. sane flect door scopi quar pres have ity o less nual askir “boa paigi the 1 ment a sta ora aunt trout our men, Ar rows torm bene! frien comicbooks.com