Life — April 6, 1922 — page 8: what you’re looking at

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

H, isn’t the smell de- licious?” exclaimed Mrs. Golitely, burying her face in a great vase full of Easter lilies. “I'm not fond of heavy % perfumes,” returned Mr. : Golitely, lifting a men- ed dacious nose from behind the afternoon paper. His wife, who could have told him accurately what days in the week a slight aroma of the overpowering new scent “jazz-jasmine” entered the house with him, and just which brilliant mem- ber of their jazz circle affected it, made no reply. “Where did you get all these?” con- tinued Mr. Golitely, turning a languid, polished head from side to side and sur- veying the white effulgences which bloomed in every corner. Candor would have led Belinda Go- litely to declare that she had ordered them from the nearest florist. She sup- pressed the impulse. - Something in her actively resented, not the occasional aroma of “jazz-jasmine,” but the hastily assumed camouflage of dislik- ing powerful scents. “They just came,” she answered, “vaguely. “Just came?” echoed her husband, - LIFE - Easter Lilies with a really excellent laugh. “I dare say. Don’t tell me, if you’d rather not, my dear girl,” he added, conceding handsomely to himself that sauce for the goose has ever involved sauce for the gander. “Surely you have a right to reccive all the lilies in the world, if you want to.” “They came from Bermuda,” an- swered his Belinda, tranquilly. “Direct to you?” “Yes.” This was a magnificent lie and Mrs. Golitely enjoyed telling it. “There are fields and fields of them, you know,” she continued, tunefully in- structive. “Heavenly! I was rather thinking of slipping down—with the children, of course—and spending the holidays, when you go to Palm Beach.” “Who said I was going to Palm Beach?” demanded Mr. Golitely, with some heat. His wife drew in an imaginative sniff of “jazz-jasmine.” “I thought the Masons wanted you to go down in their private car.” “Well, I most probably sha’n’t.” “Tt seems a pity.” “A pity!” cried her husband, exas- perated. “Why a pity? Do any of your plans hinge on my going to Palm Beach?” Breaking It Gently He: I thought we were engaged? She: We were. “No, dear, no,” returned Belinda, soothingly. “Well, then, what are you worrying about?” “Nothing. In fact, if you stay at home I can leave the children with you.” Mr. Golitely treated her to a covert- ly suspicious glance. “If there’s one time when a family ought to be together,” he observed with an air of extreme virtue, “it’s Easter. And Christmas, of course, that’s an- other time! A man who’s got any feel- ing about supporting the established order of things,—and I have,—goes to church at Christmas and Easter.” “Yes, dear,” agreed his lady. “It must encourage Things Above very much. But won't the smell of the lilies upset you?” “Tt may,” said Mr. Golitely, with the ghost of a grin, “but to church I shall go, surrounded by my family. And if we have to swoon over lilies, why, swoon we will, right here in New York.” “Yes, dear,” again agreed Mrs. Go- litely. “But I sha’n’t swoon. I like heavy perfumes.” And her grin was entirely internal. Cc. D. Spring Song (In the Expected Manner) NTER April, laughingly, Blossoms in her tumbled hair, High of heart, and fancy-free— When was maiden half so fair? Bright her eyes with easy tears, Wanton-sweet, she smiles on men. “Winter's gone,” she cries, “and here's Spring again.” When we loved, ’twas April, too; Madcap April—urged us on. Just as she did, so did you— Sighed, and smiled, and then were gone. How she plied her pretty arts, How she laughed and sparkled then! April, let love in our hearts Spring again! The Never-Owned Dress Suit First Cottece Man: I want you to come to our dance to-night. Seconp Ditto: Thanks. Is it formal; or shall J wear my own clothes? comicbooks.com