Life, 1922-07-27 · page 8 of 36
Life — July 27, 1922 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces: **Top: "Benedict Is No Woodsman"** — A bedroom dialogue between Mr. and Mrs. Benedict and Mrs. Newleigh. The humor relies on marital tension: Mrs. Benedict wants romantic adventure (sleeping outdoors), while Mr. Benedict refuses, preferring comfort. Mrs. Newleigh's interjections mock both the couple's pretensions and contemporary "back-to-nature" idealism. The joke satirizes romanticized notions of primitive living versus practical domestic reality. **Bottom: A courtroom cartoon** featuring an Irish judge sentencing a prisoner to life imprisonment, with the judge's closing remark ("I hope it will prove a warnin' to yez") being darkly ironic—a life sentence cannot logically warn anyone. This appears to satirize either harsh judicial sentencing or Irish judicial practices, likely representing stereotypical Irish brogue through dialect. Both pieces reflect early 20th-century American middle-class anxieties and ethnic humor.
📄 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 Benedict Is No Woodsman CENE: The Bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Bene- dict Newleigh, twin-beds discernible in the gloom. Mrs. NewLeicH: It would be so thrill- ing! (No answer from Benedict. Mrs. Newleigh speaks in louder tones.) It would be so romantic! BeneEpict (sighing): to yourself or me? Mrs. NEWLEIGH (triumphantly): There! I knew you weren't asleep but I didn’t want to wake you. Benepicr: Wrong both times, but never mind. In another year I won't be able to go to sleep without your waking me up first—it’s getting such a habit. But con- tinue—what's so romantic and thrilling? Mrs. New.eicH: This Sutter couple that are going out like Adam and Eve to wrest a living from nature with their own bare hands. Oh, Benedict, wouldn’t you just LOVE to do it? Benepicr: No, I'd rather sleep. Good night, honey. Mrs. New eicu: Isn’t there any poetry in your soul? Benepict: Not at eleven p. M. Let’s save it for the morning. Mrs. Newreicu: But just think—going out into the woods, no clothing, no food, no— Benepict: No brains. Mrs. NEWLEIGH (firmly): Are you talking Please don’t interrupt me, The Judge (Irish): The Prisoner: Ben—without anything but your own resourcefulness to save you from cold and starvation. Benepict: If you're such a hound for discomfort I'll stop working. Heaven knows I can get along on less. Mrs. Newceicu (sighing): Oh dear! You can't see it’s the struggle with nature that makes it so thrilling. I saw the pictures the camera man took of them. Benepict: Oh, they've got a camera man along, have they? No chance of their starving, I guess. Mrs. Newtercu: Why, the man hasn't anything to do with them. He was just sent along to get pictures. Benepict: And they wouldn’t take anything from him even if they wanted it? Oh no! Mrs. NeweicH (dreamily): I wish I had married someone that was daring! Benepict: I wish you had, too. Mrs. NEWLEIGH (apparently his words have not penc- trated her preoccupation): Someone who would plunge into the primeval forest with me like that. Benepict: Say, you'd look fine running around in the pine groves with a figure like yours— Mrs. NEWLEIGH (she didn’t miss that one, however) Oh—OH—OH. The minute I begin to talk my husband insults m-me because I am s-stout—OH— (/f Benedict gets to sleep before twelve he is a strate- gist.) (Curtain.) I sentence yez to imprisonment for life. For life, Your Honor? The Judge: Yes, and I hope it will prove a warnin’ to yez. comicbooks.com