Life — May 25, 1922 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

10 An Open Letter to Our Burglars EAR BOYS: I have been meaning to drop you a line for quite some time now, but what with one thing and another, I haven’t seemed to be able to get around to it. One does get into such a rut, here in New York,—you know LIFE draught is awfully rough on the gold- fish. Only a little while ago, we had a pretty serious time with that one with the white blaze, simply because one of you boys had left the window open, and he caught a heavy cold. Well, boys, it is time to wash up for dinner, so I must close. Please don’t take anything I have said in bad part. Particularly Odious Pet Names A Complete Hearth and Fireside List of Offensive Endearments HO of us has not been the eye, ear, nose and throat witness of a painful domestic quarrel at some par. ticular time? How we stood how it is yourselves. | Now, boys, I don’t want you to go and get offended over anything I may say. Just take it in this spirit of helpful crit- icism'in which it is offered. I wouldn’t for the world have you think that we object to hav- ing you break into the house of an evening. All I want to suggest is that you try to be a little quieter about it. Three or four times, now, we have been pretty bad- ly inconvenienced by the racket you have made. Only last Wed- nesday night, when we had Mr. and Mrs. Nimmick in to play a little bridge — you know, he is in a position to put quite a little business in my husband's way, if we can get him into the right mood for it—there you were, down-stairs, clanking silver around and blowing safes open until we actually couldn't hear ourselves bid. Now you know, boys, a thing like that is humili- ating, that’s what it is. And several times, lately, when we have been trying to get a little sleep, you have been clattering about, shooting up policemen, and making all kinds of fuss. I wouldn't say a word about it, out when a_ person's rest is crashed in on like that, a person is practically a total loss all the next day. I realize it is nothing but thoughtlessness on your part, but if you would just try to be a little more careful next time I would take it as a great favor. And another thing, boys, don’t feel that you have to keep cage The Unuttered Thoughts of a Stenographer (Published for the First Time) Tap-tap-tap (tempo rubato con amore) To-night, I've got a date with Paul. O Gee! I hope the boss don’t bawl For me at five. But if he does, I'll quit this place. I can do better with my face Than in this hive. Why, with my features on the screen, I sure could be a movie queen And sport a car. O Gee! But won’t the boss regret The way he treated me, you bet, When I'm a star. embarrassed and out of milicy while Neddie hurled sallies at Sally and Sally retaliated in fashion. How bitterly un. pleasant it all was—even the more humorous phas Worse than the atmospheric squabbles of Neddie and Sally is their mellifluous accord— theirs and that of their immedi- ate family. What they are known by, one to the other, is far more potent than hot mus- tard and water. Therefore, at the risk of per- petual isolation and ostracism, I Yor one refuse absolutely from now on to countenance any hus- band calling his wife in my} presence “Mother,” “Mummah,” “Little Woman,” “Missus,” “Mrs. X.” Or, while we are on |) the subject, any wife calling her | husband “Father,” “Puppah,” “Hubby,” “Hubs,” or using the stately dignity of the f. 4 name without prefix— “Jones,” “Abercrombie.” And furthermore, the same |) opprobrium applies to any fat-) uous parent calling its child) “Brother,” “Junior,” “Father's (Mother's) Little Man,” “Little Gentleman,” “Little George” (to distinguish from “Puppah,” who) is “Big George”), “Son,’)) “Sonny,” “Sonny Jim”—or, in of a female child, is,” “Bal “Babe,” hickie,” “Daughter,” “Girlie,” “Kiddie,” ‘‘ Little Lady,” “Mother’s (Father's) Little Angel.” In like manner, may the shade of W. J. Herod deal summarily breaking into the place. I have left the key under the mat for you every night, but no, you seem to think you have to keep forcing the lock. Do try to remember—it’s under the lower left-hand corner, as you come in. If you really must leave by the parlor window, I do wish you could think to close it after you. It isn’t that I mind a little fresh air myself, but the And, by the way, when you are tak- ing things, do try to get them all out with you. I may be queer that way, but somehow I hate to come down in the morning and find stray knives and salt-spoons and sugar-bowl lids dropped all over the rug. As ever, Dorothy Parker. with any, child dubbing its dub parent “Dadda,” “Daddums,” “Pater,” “Governor,” ‘‘Old Man, “Duke,” or “Baron.” Or “Mater”; or “Duchess.” Patient co-sufferers are at liberty— nay invited—to clip the above list and send it anonymously or otherwise to their own particular bétes-noirs. This sort of thing has got to stop. H.W.H. comicbooks.com M: ai¢ loc nit se¢