Life, 1923-04-19 · page 6 of 36
Life — April 19, 1923 — page 6: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a serialized diary column with two cartoon illustrations. The main content satirizes upper-middle-class domestic life through entries dated April 12th and 14th, mocking the author's pretensions about temperament, fashion choices ("Un Jour Viendra" perfume), and child-rearing philosophies. The lower cartoon titled "His Mite" shows a Sunday school scene where a teacher asks a student named Freddy what he's doing; Freddy responds he's "trying to make Sunday School more interesting" while appearing to throw paper wads. The humor targets both parental self-delusion and childhood misbehavior—the ironic gap between adult aspirations and reality. The satire is genteel rather than hard-hitting, typical of Life magazine's comedy aimed at educated, middle-class readers.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Nes Lops Diary April Lay late, pondering my recent discovery that my 12th temperament is the exact reverse of the Russian in kind, but like it in degree. Russians are always up or down, and generally down; whereas I am the same thing, only generally up, thanks be to God. I am now at an age where my con- temporaries inject into their conver- sation remarks about the futility of life, boring me unutterably thereby. Granting there be a catch in the cos- mic scheme, why should cynics who give up because of it feel superior to citizens who do the best they can LIFE in spite of it? Their idea, me- thinks, is that cheerful —_ persons are nitwits whom the gods_ have given blinkers against realities. Which is not true. I have come to the conclusion that the secret of a blithe spirit is the ability te recognize a stone wall at first sight. . . .Did on this evening my new chignon, the first false hair that ever I wore in my life, and felt like a thief when my coiffure was fairly bespoken. -) Up and to the shops, April buying myself a bottle of 13th scent on the strength of its name, “Un Jour Viendra,” and hoping that its odor will justify my psychology. . . .To luncheon at an inn with Kate Mitchell, and I did confine myself to consommé and His Mite celery, albeit the card announced noodles with a venison pasty, I was at some pains to withsta them. And as we were wait Kate’s car, something struck her in the eye, causing her such agony that I was forced to take her to an ocu- list and accompany her child in her stead to the circus. Relieved not to learn, up- on telephoning Kai 14th her boy had di the night. For, albeit I said of it, such news would not have prised me, in view of all the pe: and confections which he wheeilled me into letting him consume, even though I knew Kate follows the modern plan of making the poor lit- tle wretch subsist on weak broth and an occasional bite of spinach, with one chocolate for good behavior at Easter and Christmas. Lord! I oiten wish that such a regimen had been vogue in my childhood, for if it had, my stomach would not now be strong enough to enable me to eat what I please and I should. not be concerned with weights and measures. Baird Leonard. April Sunday School Teacher: Freddy, what are you doing? Freddy (shooting paper wads): Just. trying to make Sunday School more interesting. comicbooks.com