Life — December 28, 1922 — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

* LIFE - The Twitters’ Christmas CENE: The living room in the Twitters’ home. The children, Robert, Mary, and Willie Twitter (of decreasing ages), are giving a human imitation of dogs attempt- ing to dig out a woodchuck. Mrs. Twitter is watching the proceedings with an air of pleasant anticipation. Her mother, Mrs. Grinnell, sits busily rocking in another chair with an air of disinterested detachment. Mr. Twitter enters from another room. Mr. Twitter: What under the heavens is happening? Mrs. Twitter (with an air of poorly suppressed pride): Oh, Fred, I’ve had the BEST idea. You see I wanted to make this Christmas a little different for the children— Mr. Twitter (with feeling): Yes, Christmas ought to be a lot different for everybody! Mrs. Twitter: So I’ve hidden all the children’s Christmas presents. Mr. Twitter (somewhat surprised): I say—that seems to be a bit rough onthe kids.. Why not cut out giving things to some of these confounded relatives of ours? (Mrs. Grinnell clears her voice loudly.) Mrs. Twitter (hurriedly): Oh, but that isn’t the idea. They get them jast the same. Only they have to find them first. It’s a game, you see, and they have all the fun of looking for them. (Excited cries from Willie interrupt them.) (Hastily unwraps Wie: I’ve found something. it.) Aw—it’s a DOLL! Mary (rushing over to his side): it to me. Witte: Won't. Go get your own presents. (As an afterthought.) Find something and trade me for it. (Their attention is diverted by a cry from Robert.) Rosert: Ho! Here's a pair of skates. Mary (appealing directly to the source of authority): It’s mine! Give That's the fifth thing Robert has found, and Willie has two, and I haven't anything yet. Mustn’t they divide? Mrs. Twitter: Go on and hunt, Mary, and then you'll find something too. And when you all get through, we'll divide them if anyone has too many. Mary: MAKE ’em divide NOW. You'll forget. Mr. Twitter (firmly): No, dear. Later. Mother won't forget. (Fifteen minutes pass. No new treasures are brought to light.) Ropert (suspiciously) : Mother ? Mrs. Twitter (with somewhat weary enthusiasm): Oh, no, dear. There are lots more! (Ten more minutes pass in which incipient cases of riot are suppressed.) Wie: Mother, let’s not do this any longer. us where they are. Mary: Yes, they’re getting everything this way. Mr. Twitter (who has steadily become more nerz ous): You'd better, Lucy, or there'll be bloodshed. (Mrs. Grinnell never misses a stitch in her rocking.) Mrs. Twitter (disappointedly): Oh, dear. I thought it would be such fun. Well, all right. I'll get them. Now let’s see. (She passes uncertainly on her way to one corner of the room and begins to think.) There was something under the pillow on this sofa, I think. (Walks over to the sofa and investigates from one place to another with the same success. She stops at last and looks at her husband with dismay.) Frederick! I do be- lieve I’ve forgotten where I’ve put them. (She looks frantically in all the other hiding places. Mary begins to weep violently.) Frederick, I can’t find ANYTHING! (Robert and Willie look intensely depressed.) Mr. Twitter: Well, this certainly is a different Christ- mas, all right. Mrs. GRINNELL (pausing a moment in her perpetual motion) : Merry Christmas! Hmpff! T.H. L. Say, this isn’t all, is it, Tell Keeping Him Happy “This old party is very fussy.” “Can’t help it—the line he wants is busy.” “Give him a wrong number.” comicbooks.com