Life — March 29, 1923 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

Thal 26 Leet day/ a f Shame! Shame! LIFE Oh, ceetor! Oh, doctop! And I am Lehind F SN << . The New Manhattan Malady $ RE you excessive in your use of tobacco, coffee, liquor or somnia?” the great brain special- is ked me. I replied that I was not. He then asked me to describe a typical day of my life. “T eat a light breakfast and read F. P. A. at the breakfast table.” At this juncture, I broke into one of my periodic spells of hysteria. /‘Doctor, what CAN I do? What can I do? I am nine days—” “Be calm, my friend,” he said in his motherly way. “Then I go down-town. I read Heywood Broun’s column on_ the way down. Doctor, doctor !” “Control yourself. Go on.” “At the office I smoke a cigarette, read Igoe’s sport column, then Don Marquis’ column, then Grantland Rice’s column. Doctor, doctor! Doc- tor—!” “Hum!” said the doctor. “T work a while, then I go out to an early lunch, buy a Globe and an ning Post—’ “And read H. I. Phillips, Doc Crane, Round the Town, and Chris- topher Morley. I know, I know,” said the great specialist. “Your case is not at all uncommon. We are having many of them. You have had a col- umn breakdown. You have what we call Verticalis Columnitis. You must leave New York. You are now in the secondary stage, that of Con- scientious Column Consumption—” “Doctor, I am nine days behind in my column reading.” “You will soon be in the tertiary stage of Verticalis Columnitis. Your head will begin to go up and down. You must leave New York, go some- where where they never heard of these column guys. You probably never heard of them yourself until you came to New York. Well, that proves you can get along without them. You must leave New York.” “But, doctor, I cannot leave my business.” “Your business will go to pot if you stay here and persist in this—” “I can’t leave my business.” “Well, there is just one alterna- tive, but it will take a lot of char- acter. You must cut out columns. You can stay here in New York if you will promise me that, and promise me to read a dozen comic strips a day to develop your sidewise neck and brain muscles. Do you read Mutt & Jeff? No? Well, try that, and Lit- tle Mary Mixup, and Bringing Up Father and Rube Goldberg. You think you are behind in your column reading. My boy, \what ails you is that you are behind in your hori- zontal reading. I prescribe a dozen comic strips a day for you—a daily dozen. Those sidewise neck and brain muscles—all those delicate lit- tle nerves. Come back again in two S. D..H. Triolet Give back the heart that I gave; Keeping it never can mend it. See, I can smile, and be brave. Give back the heart that I gave, Hold it no more as your slave— I've got a new place to send it. Give back the heart that I gave; Keeping it never can mend it. D: BP. The Deserted Village Scene: Sherry’s Sue Everybody’s out of town. HE Absolutely everybody. "SHE The place is perfectly empty. HE Perfectly. SHE You don’t see a soul anywhere He No. Everycne’s gone away. Sue I haven’t done a thing for weeks, HE Neither have I. SHE There’s simply nothing going on. HE No, there isn’t a thing to do. SHE Everyone’s South. HE Everyone really is. SHE I think I'll go away. HE I wish J could. SHE Yes, [ think I'll go to Florida. HE Everybody’s in Florida. Sue Yes, I'll go next week. He You'll see everybody there. SHE Yes, I suppose so. HE Of course you will. SHE There’s nobody left in town. 65°G:. S. The Tea Picture hats and petits fours, sophomores and silk ties, dé- butantes and Dimitrinos. Chaper- ones and slices of lemon, fox-trots and grape-juice punch, silver fox wraps and iced water. Dates made for the matinée and plans for next summer, balanced cups and sauc thin slices of buttered bread, couples on stairs, ice cream, immaculate foot- men, enthusiastic farewells. Proup Fatuer (excitedly) : Well, doctor, is it a boy? “A bouncing, vamp.” ten-pound _ baby comicbooks.com