Life — July 12, 1923 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

CENE: A tiny cottage on the roof of a thirty-story building in New York City. There is a little garden with boxes of gay flowers and under an awning a table and chairs, and a hammock. Time: Early morning in August. Tue Wire (leaning out of a case- ment window): What a heavenly morning! Could anything be lovelier than the sun on the Bush Terminal! Tue Huspanp: Nothing! Unless it’s this bath I’m having—How far did Mary say they had to walk to the beach where they are? Wire: Three-quarters of a mile— Huspanp: I hope she'll write oft- en; if anything could make me love the town more, it’s Mary’s letters— Wire: If you're not ready for breakfast, dear, I’ll just run over to Third Avenue and get some of those delicious string beans they have fresh every morning—How I wish I could send Mary some—I mustn’t forget to send her the canned peas, and I think T'll put some insect powder in with them, she said the sand fleas were aw- ful. Hussanp: What next! Last week you sent mosquito netting and witch hazel— Wire (putting on her hat): Vil see if I can get some of those nice fish again—weren’t they delicious? Hussanp: Yes, I don’t believe there’s as good fishing anywhere as on Third Avenue. And please bring a package of that sea salt, I’ve just used the last—You know the kind, it has “Let the Ocean . come to you” on it. Did I tell you I found a piece of wreck in the water yester- day? I think I shall write a poem on “Ships that pass in the bath.” Scene II. Evening — ‘The Wife is reclining on a long straw chair, the Husband is leaning on the wall that encloses the roof, smoking. The scent from the flower boxes is almost overpowering. LIFE The Height of Bliss By Beatrice Herford Hussanp: What an evening! The lights on the river are lovely. (The sound of a guitar from the roof of a twenty-six-story building floats up.) Wire: I had another letter from “WHAT AN EVENING! THE LIGHTS ON THE RIVER ARE LOVELY.” Mary this afternoon, when we go in I'll read it to you. Hussanp: Better not. I couldn't bear to be more content than I am. Wire: She says that the mosquitoes are something frightful, and the peo- ple in the next cottage have a cheap victrola going till twelve o’clock— every night. “{ DON’T BELIEVE THERE’S AS GOOD FISHING ANYWHERE AS ON THIRD AVENUE.” Huspanpb: Did she say they'd had any lobsters yet? Wire: No, she can’t get any, they send them all away. Hussanp: That was a delicious one we had to-night, poor Mary! I think we'll have one every night while they’re so cheap. Wire: Well, I'm getting so sleepy, I think I'll go in, I'm going to have another blanket, I was cold last night. Hussanp: All right, dear, I shall sleep out here, there won’t be many more nights I can. THE Wire (hesitating at the door and then turning back): There was something Mary said in her letter, darling, that I didn’t tell you, I was afraid to, afraid you’d want to. Hussanp: Want to what? Wire: She says they’ve decided to come back to town on the 20th and we could have the cottage for the rest of the month. (She looks at him in an agony of suspense.) Huspanp: My dear, nothing could induce me to leave this spot, how could you ever imagine such a thing— Wire: Well, it will be getting cooler up here all the time now, and you hate the cold so, I was afraid you might want to run down there and get warmed up. To Fathers E prepared, when your young son returns from Summer Camp, to incur his hidden but immeasurable contempt because you on your own confession can not hold your breath under water for forty-nine seconds, nor tell the points of the compass by your watch, nor set a broken leg with two © sticks and a_ handker- chief, nor even start a fire with wet wood. There is only one way to regain your son's respect, and that is to eat seventeen flapjacks for breakfast. HE Newport hen that recent- ly went on a rampage, terrorizing a coop, breaking eggs, and finally killing a rooster, evi- dently was one of those Rhode Island Reds. * comicbooks.com