Life — October 12, 1922 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

October Early up, and to a 6th servants’ exchange to interview cooks, all of whom did ask far more questions of me than I of them, including what I did with my discardéd apparel and whether or not we have a still. Thence to a lecture on topics of the day, and resolved never to go to an- other one. For if the world be com- ing to the pass which the lecturer portrayed, then it is better for me to know as little as possible about it, in- asmuch as I can do naught to stay it. This day I did command my maid Virgie to lengthen all my skirts in accordance with the present mode. October My husband, poor 7th wretch, in high dudgeon because of the bad weather, which did keep him from his game of golf. He did storm about the house, looking out the window every five minutes, and say- ing that when people argue as to the existence of a God, they do start from the wrong premises entirely, it being doubtful whether any power but an evil one could assign all the rainfall .to the end of every week. In the afternoon three friends come to play at bridge with me, and I lost forty-two dollars, which, God knows, I could ill afford to do. But my partner for well nigh every rubber did play directly into the hands of our opponents, and it is impossible for one lone player to defeat three others. Nor was my choler lessened at hearing my husband in a distant room playing “O God, Our Help in Ages Past” from time to time on the gramophone, considering his blas- phemy of the morning. The fond- ness of such a man for hymns is past my comprehension. Reading all evening in a book entitled “This Freedom,” a silly, ill-wrote story pleading for the home-keeping wo- man and making her out a nit-wit withal. Lord! I am growing weary of my sex and its problems as ex- ploited in contemporary fiction, Our modern criticism is none too sound, neither, and wrote as if our criticks had never heard of the elements of style. Ate one box of Saratoga po- tatoes, and so to bed. October Awake much sooner 8th than I liked, because of (Lord's Day) a neighboring pianist who does know but one chord in the bass clef. Secretly en- raged at hearing my husband singing “O Day of Rest and Gladness!” in his tub, but resolved not to speak of it, inasmuch as W. L. George holds that along such lines lies the true path to the divorce court. To our house at tea time all manner of ragtag and bobtail, plainly having begun their holiday libations. To such a pass hath the eighteenth amendment brought the civilized so- ciety of our land, whatever it may have done for the formerly sub- merged tenth. Some of the com- pany for gaming, others for dancing the fox-trot, and all for staying to supper. Whereupon I signalled the servant to remove the Majolica tea- set and other breakable bibelots, and the evening passed without casual- ties, though some of the company stayed them till the morning. To bed exhausted. B. L. Autumn on the Avenue AUGHTER rising like a bird; Ne’er a shade of gloom or woe; Glinting look and glancing word; Thus the promenaders go; All below is gleam and glow; All above is golden blue; Such the scene and show ;— Autumn on the Avenue! such the Nothing here of “hope deferred” ; Joy’s the boon the fates bestow; Melancholy ?—how absurd! That were very much de trop; Frill and flounce and furbelow; Gowns of every rainbow hue; This the day-dream that we know ;— Autumn on the Avenue! with cream sweetest Not a single petal blurred, Beauty's blossoms ranged arow; What! resist the magic? No, Rather join the merry crew Whatsoever seed they sow ;— Autumn on the Avenue! Envoy Prince, of all this to and fro Captive we have made the clue! Fashion, foible, folly !—Lo, Autumn on the Avenue! C.S. Impressions {FE’S off moments: the business section of a great city on a Sun- day afternoon in August . . . back stage of a musical revue at eight o'clock in the morning . . . an empty ballroom . . : a skating rink in July . a battlefield a week after the victory . ..a beautiful woman in the act of washing her hair. It is not the mere platitude turned upside down that startles and shocks the populace but the fact that the platitude is able to remain in its in- verted position. Memory: the lingering scent of yesterday. Anticipation: the regret of to- morrow. The man who talks to sway a mob, to entertain an audience, to woo a woman, perhaps, may be pardoned. But who shall forgive the fellow who talks merely because he enjoys list- ening to his own voice? comicbooks.com