Life, 1922-06-29 · page 12 of 35
Life — June 29, 1922 — page 12: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a "Twin Bed-Time Stories" sketch titled "The Power of Poetry" from *Life* magazine. The dialogue depicts two married couples in adjacent beds (a common 1920s-30s setup) discussing poetry and marital dynamics. The satire centers on **Benedict**, who allegedly writes poetry to impress his wife. His wife challenges him: poetry didn't help him secure their cook or resolve financial problems with her father Karl Deering. She suggests he's using "the power of poetry" as an excuse for his actual failures as a provider. The cartoon below illustrates the couple with their "wonderfully democratic" new cook, satirizing pretentious social attitudes. The humor targets **masculine vanity**—how men invoke art and culture to compensate for practical inadequacies—and **class anxieties** about domestic staff and financial status.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LIFE - Twin Bed-Time Stories The Power of Poetry CENE: The Benedict Newleighs’ Bedroom. Twin Beds in the offing. There are signs of life in Bed No. 1, for Mrs. Newleigh, as usual, is thinking. All is quiet in Bed No. 2. Benedict is happily dreaming of how lucky he has been to fall asleep without being dis- turbed by his wife. Bep No. 1: Benedict! Bep No. 2 (Benedict, startled, jumps half out of bed): Heavens, how you scared me! I'd just got to sleep and— Bep No. 1 (coldly): Don't be silly, Benedict. I knew you weren't asleep, of course. Bep No, 2: But, Leila, didn’t I just tell you I was? Bep No. 1 (calmly): Yes, I know, dear, but I have something more important than that to talk about. Bep No. 2 (wearily): Sleep’s most important thing in the world, Let's not talk about it—let’s do it. Bep No. 1 (ignoring him): I’ve been thinking, Bene- dict, since I came home from our Thursday afternoon club, that you ought to do something to make yourself better known. Bep No, 2: All right, dear. I'll go down to the City Hall in the morning and slap Mayor Hylan’s face. Good night, dear. Bep No. 1 (one can tell how patient the woman is from the tone of her voice): I'm trying to discuss some- thing with you, Benedict. You needn’t be a clown all the time. My idea was that you should write poetry and get a reputation. (Sighing.) You used to write such sweet poems to me when we were engaged. Bep No, 2: And see what they got me instead of a reputation. Happy dreams, sweetheart. Bep No. 1 (Benedict’s words have shocked her into a sitting position): Oh! Benedict, how could you be so cruel!! (There is a suspicion of a sob in her voice.) Bep No. 2 (contritely): There, I was just kidding, Leila. Cheer up. You aren't serious, are you? Bep No, 1: Certainly I was. You can write just as well as lots of these verses I see in the Atlantic \onthly, Bep No. 2: Still can. Listen to this: , I pray the Lord my soul to keep, And hope my wife will let me sleep. Nighty-night, honey. Bep No. 1 (determinedly): You are going to listen to me, so there! I want you to get out of this horrid old bond business. Just think how much better known to the public Karl Deering, the poet, is than you are. And he hasn’t got a single bit more ability. Bep No. 2: Married, isn’t he? Bep No. 1: Yes, and he has two children. Bep No. 2: Wife living with him? Bep No. 1 (reluctantly): Why—no. is here in New York with him, though. Bep No, 2: And his wife? Bep No. 1 (dignifiedly): If you read at all you would know that his wife is living with her parents and her little daughter in Canada. Deering can’t afford to have her with him in New York. Bep No. 2: For financial reasons? Bep No. 1: Why, of course, Benedict. Why « asking so many questions about him all of a sudde Bep No. 1 (with emphasis): Just to point out to you, my dear, that because your own stupid husband is selling bonds you can afford to live-in New York with him. Now, good night, dear. We won't talk about it any more unless you want to leave for Canada. Bep No. 1 (Benedict has hit the bull’s-eye): Oh— Oh—N-now you want me to leave for Canada-a-ah— (She is off, not for Canada, but a nice satisfactory cry. (Curtain doloroso.) T.H His little son “—and, my dear! Our new cook is simply amazing! So wonderfully democratic, you know!” comicbooks.com <>