Life, 1922-08-24 · page 15 of 36
Life — August 24, 1922 — page 15: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The cartoon depicts a crowded indoor scene with a man at a piano addressing a woman, with the caption: "Beg pardon, but haven't I kissed you before, somewhere?" This is a social satire on casual encounters and mistaken identity in crowded public spaces—likely a party or nightclub setting given the era. The joke plays on the awkwardness of recognizing (or misremembering) someone in a crowded room, particularly in romantic/flirtatious contexts. The crowded background and the pianist's casual demeanor suggest this is commenting on modern social life where strangers frequently cross paths. The humor relies on the universal experience of social embarrassment: the assumption of prior intimacy that may or may not be real, reflecting Jazz Age anxieties about anonymity in urban environments.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“Beg pardon, but haven’t I kissed you before, somewhere?” LIFE’S Radio Program TNT (Permanent Wave Length.) Report of the rainfall in the Canary Islands. Talk on “Choice of Shovels for the Making of Mountains out of Molehills.” Tom Watson. Quotations from Bartlett. Editorial Staff of the Forum. “Ivories and Their Uses.” Roach Straton. Song and Dance by the Smith Brothers. Bedtime Stories for Children Over Eighty in the Census of 1900. Songs by the Lydia Pinkham Male Quartet. Market quotations on Scotch, Bourbon and Rye. Tabulated returns of the day’s lynchings. From Georgia and points South. “The Art of Cocktail Mixing.” William Jennings Bryan. Latest phonograph record. Telephone.” Fairy Tales by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. “Legs and the Men.” Filo Ziegfeld. “Intimate Stories About Great Unknowns.” By Franklin P. Adams. . “Drawing: A Fine Art.” Hoyle. Harmonica Duet. Henry Cabot Nicholas Murray Butler. “Questionnaire.” A Sandman Tale by T. A. Edison. J.K.M. Talk by Dr. John “Mr. Cohen on the Lodge and A Verdict NGELO, Benjamin, Michael and Paul Threw down their shovels at Liberty's call; Their day was too long and their pay was too small, The job, as i stood, didn’t suit them at all, So they shook it. Ichabod, deaf to the threats of the mob, Doggedly said that he needed the job, And he took it. Angelo, Benjamin, Michael and Paul Called him a villain, a slave and a thrall; Then, as he wouldn't quit work as they willed him, They killed him. The Coroner, sitting on Ichabod’s case, Learned that the victim was everything base, A blackguard, a ruffian, a shame and disgrace, A traitor for daring to work in the place Of Angelo, Benjamin, Michael and Paul, Those heroes who stood with their backs to the wall. So what in the world could the Coroner do But find, by the witness of good men and true, That Angelo, Benjamin, Michael and Paul Had nothing whatever to do with the brawl; That Ichabod, friendless, despised and alone, Had come to his death (which we needn’t bemoan) At the hands of a person, or persons, unknown; And what was the difference? The fault was his own. Nobody minded what Ichabod said; He was dead. A. G. comicbooks.com