Life, 1922-08-17 · page 9 of 36
Life — August 17, 1922 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The page contains a sketch depicting a beach or seaside scene with adults and children bathing. The accompanying dialogue is a humorous exchange about a woman named Evangeline catching cold. The satire appears to target Victorian-era attitudes about women's propriety and fashion. When asked what caused Evangeline's illness, the response is "Exposure. She went out with no powder on." This is a joke about social conventions: the implication is that appearing in public without cosmetic makeup was considered so socially transgressive or embarrassing that it could literally make a woman ill—a mocking exaggeration of how seriously upper-class society took women's appearance standards. The text below (Chapters III-IV) contains dialect-heavy narrative, likely satirizing German-American immigrant speech patterns popular in early 20th-century American humor magazines.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Norma: Florence: Exposure. Kluck’s Ku-Ku Klan. “He holds up der party of der left centre flank. But me, I'm seffen or eight miles behind der front. I don’t get held up at all. Vell, der upshot of it all vas dot I lost my meal in Paritz, | lost der mind bet, und some folks say I lost my mind. Ven you tink it ofer, dot guy Sherman was var iss a hellofa ting. Especially ven der goose- steppers turn around und step like der greyhounds instead. right Chapter IIT. Vun of der fifty-seven best rules in der var books iss dot vun about, “If, at der first place, you don’t succeed, hit ‘um again, McCluskey.” Dot’s vere I got anodder good idea. Vun efening ven I vas surveying der land- scapes from vun of der all-highest hills in back of der extra-final trenches, I says to my bodyguard, mit a feel- ings of disgust, I says to him, “Hey, dummkopf, vot iss dose pickets I see on der horizon, sticking up like der tecth in der fine-tooth comb?” “Oh, All-Highest,” he explanations to me, “dose iss der peautiful church spires of France.” “Raus mit ’um,” says I, mitout der slightest vink of der Dot's der vay I get results. Qvick tinking, snappy action. Und no sooner had I solved der qvestion dan der ting vas didded. Der towers vas raussed in no time at all. eyebrow. Chust to stimulate der poys und make der target-shoot- ing sporty, I offered five iron crosses for each good hit- und tree iron crosses for der vuns dot chust grazed ’um. What made Evangeline catch cold? She went out with no powder on. Der guys dot missed der church spires but got der inno- cent stand-byers, I gafe dem vun cross to make it no hard feelings. Der campaign vas a enormous success. Tree days after my qvick decision, churches vot hadn’t been hit in 4oo years had been picked off by der All-Highest’s shoot-sharpers. Chapter IV. Vell, friends, I’m der good looser, but don’t let any of der guys dot’s writing post-var after-thoughts tell you I vouldn’t try anydings vunce. I got Hansie Lissauer, der popular poet, to write up der limericks about Gott strafe England. Great stuff! But Hans’s poetry, I dunno—der vords read fine und der music vas pretty, but somehow or odder, our poys in field gray didn’t seem to catch on to der sving of der ting. Not vunce, in my eight months’ experience ten miles behind der lines, did I hear der landsturmers humming der tune as dey marched on der vay to der front. Although personally I am der—you know vat I mean— der connersewer—hey ?—der connersewer of art, dot iss vun ting I can’t explain, der flop of dot hate hymn. Lots of odder tings ve tried vunce, und sometimes ve tried ’um tvice or tree times. Der poison gas vas a clever idea until der pigs in der opposition trenches put nosebags on der face und spoiled my highest price gas. I efen got Gott to send down der flu, und dey beat dot mit cheese- rags around der nose, too. N. O’H. comicbooks.com