Life — July 27, 1922 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

The Infernal Feminine “In feudal times, as ever, preachers expressed their horror of the ruinous extravagance of women, their false hair, their rouge, and their dresses that were too long or too short. They also reprobated their love of flirta- tion.”—Havelock Ellis. y’ ER since the days of Adam, ‘1 (That was quite some time ago) (lergymen have muttered, “Madam, Ite your actions thus and so. Put yourself beyond the critics, lave your skirts a proper length; Men are moral paralytics, Do not tax them past strength !”” their Even in the Middle -Ages, Which were somewhat faire, \Vomen were informed by sages How to act and what to wear. An assembly of ascetics, Eloquent on woman’s place, Never fails to link cosmetics With the future of the race. laissez \Vhenas Julia goes in satins Modestly designed and cut, there are always Dr. Stratons Ready with a curt “Tut! tut !"— On a damsel meanly pinning Something which they reprehend: So it was in the beginning, Is, and shall be till the end. B.L. The Whole Truth “ OST of all,” Eleanor de- clared when we arrived at the shore that morning, “I’m happy because we'll be away from that screech-owl all summer. I’m so re- lieved, I could cry.” Julia Carfair had not wholly carned the characterization of screech-owl.” She lacked some of the bird’s traits—that of being silent i the daytime, for instance. Her screeching, particularly of much- ed portions of “Madame Butter- y,” was a twenty-four hour job. Living in the adjacent apartment, ve had stood Julia’s howling through all the fall, winter and spring nonths, uncomplaining save for a tew hundred letters to the managers f the property, three unsuccessful’ court actions and a pound of poi- soned candy which unfortunately was fed to the pet Pom. That was why we sublet our apart- ment and rented a cottage at the Not Now “When I was young, girls were taught to darn their own stockings.” “Yes, Grandma, but in those days it was possible to place a darn where it wouldn’t show.” shore for the summer, even though business demanded that I stay in town; and that was why Eleanor professed great happiness when we arrived at Pacific-on-Atlantic to be- gin our vacation from Julia. We went to the real-estate office to get our keys. “I see your neighbors are here al- ready,” the bright young man in- formed us, cheerily, as he handed the jingling bundle to me. “Are they?” I inquired, with dis- interested politeness. “Yeh!” he shouted. “They took possession this morning. Nice fam- ily, too,” he added. “From New York. The name is Carfair.” “Have they—have they a daugh- ter?” I asked, weakly. “Sure!” boomed the bright young man. “Her name’s Julia. She sings.” Newspaper reports of subsequent happenings were grossly inaccurate and unfair. It is true that I jumped off the pier after my wife, but that was because I fainted in the real- estate office and since Eleanor had gained one hundred and fifty yards’ start, she just beat me to it. And I did not throw my arms around the neck of the lifeguard who rescued us. What I did do was to try to strangle him, and my only regret in the whole affair is that I did not succeed, JLK.M. comicbooks.com