Life, 1922-11-30 · page 26 of 36
Life — November 30, 1922 — page 26: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This story satirizes the arrogance of Mr. Twitter, a man convinced he can easily solve the "servant problem" (hiring domestic help) despite his wife's warnings that he's difficult to work for. The joke's irony: Mr. Twitter dismisses his wife's concerns, confidently visits an employment agency, and hires a cook without meeting her first. When shown the girl, he suddenly realizes—with visible distress—that she's the very servant *he* had just fired. The punchline exposes his hypocrisy: he blamed his wife for servant turnover while being the actual problem himself. The surrounding items include a brief "Rates of Exchange" joke about post-WWI currency inflation (millions of marks or rubles equaling small American amounts), and a cartoon about a farmer lacking patience—likely referencing agricultural labor shortages.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
New Arrival: Er, yes, you see, Pete, it’s a Kukulele, I thought you'd appreciate a little change. Help Wanted 66 DO wish that you could learn to speak more gently to our cooks,” complained Mrs. Twitter sadly, to her husband. “This is the third that has left within two months after you have ‘told her a few things.’ They are awfully hard to get and you should learn to put up with some of their shortcomings.” “Nonsense,” replied Mr. Twitter with an even more expressive snort. “You've let this so-called ‘servant question’ buffalo you. There isn’t any. Why,” he had a brilliant flash of inspiration, “I'll stop on the way down to the office to-day and get you one. It won’t take more than half an hour at the most.” His wife had protested ineffectu- ally. She had pleaded that she “didn’t want to bother” him, but Mr. Twitter had turned an ear of stone to her objections. It would be fun. Be- sides, he wanted to “show” her. An hour later he was engaged in conversation with the head of an em- ployment agency. “I have JUST the girl for you,” the woman told him, sticking the lead pencil somewhat more firmly in her copious head of hair. “You won’t find her equal in a month’s hunting. She is a good cook, neat and clean, and can be depended upon.” Mr. Twitter was pleased. He had known it would be like this. How- ever, he knew his business. ‘You had to make sure of the details in a thing of this kind. That was just where his wife had fallen down in the past, he reflected. Too anxious to take the first one that came along. “Why did she leave her last posi- tion?” he asked suspiciously. “Family she was with was per- fectly impossible,” replied the man- ageress. “You know yourself how unreasonable some persons are with servants. The husband in particu- lar was unendurable.” Thus appealed to, Mr. Twitter rose manfully to the occasion. “To be sure, to be sure,” he agreed. “Servants are human beings like anyone else. I’ll take her. Look at her first, of course. Is she here?” The woman in charge nodded. “Follow me,” she said and led him into the next room, where several girls with bored countenances were sitting on a bench. “There she is,” said his guide pointing to one in the farther corner of the room, Mr. Twitter looked at the girl in- dicated. As he turned to leave he seemed to be having difficulty with his breathing. He felt, however, that he owed some sort of explanation for his sudden departure. With a great effort at self-control he explained, “That’s the girl we just fired.” T. H. L. Rates of Exchange Bank TELLER: Will you have it in rubles, marks or crowns? VisitiInG AMERICAN: What’s the difference ? Bank TELLER: Six million of one kind, half-a-dozen million of another. Farmer: H’m! You know, I never could do that—ain’t got the patience. comicbooks.com