Life, 1923-10-04 · page 19 of 44
Life — October 4, 1923 — page 19: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page satirizes the unrealistic expectations placed on U.S. mail carriers. The main article, a humorous narrative poem, depicts a postal worker recounting his day to his wife. Beyond delivering mail, he has performed countless domestic tasks: spreading clothes, removing cinders from children's eyes, baking cakes, curing illnesses, soldering flasks, tuning organs, bathing dogs, and moving ice boxes. The satire's point—emphasized in the moral—is that the public unfairly blames mail carriers when deliveries are late, without understanding their impossible workload. The message urges patience with late mail, late alimony payments, and delayed checks. The accompanying cartoon (bottom) appears unrelated: it depicts two African American figures discussing gambling and gift-giving, using period dialect. This reflects the magazine's casual racial stereotyping typical of early 20th-century publications.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
I H LIFE All Things to All Men (U. S. letter carriers are expected to know the rudiments of first aid and to apply them on their rounds, if necessary.) was a sturdy postal man, who with the setting sun tetired to his homely cot; his weary day was done. cn spake his gentle helpmate as she brought him softer hoes, hat has gone on this long, long day? Come, dearie. sh the news.” cramming his tobacco into his briar’s bowl, simple letter carrier unburdenéd his soul. t Mrs. Jones’,” the man began, “I spread the clothes » dry, | took a cinder out of Master Bobbie's little eye. pened up a can of milk, I beat the parlor rug, (| mended, rather neatly, too, a handsome Wedgwood ‘oss the street, at Mrs. Smith’s, I baked a layer cake, Mrs. Brown's I cured her infant daughter’s tummy- che. bottled beer at Mrs. White’s—a rather pleasant task— lso soldered up a hole in Mr. White's old flask. Mrs. Green's request I put the organ back in tune; then, my dear, ‘twas somewhat in the early afternoon. I plodded on from house to house, each had its little chore, I covered with linoleum the Tompkins’ kitchen floor. 1 gave Miss Bangs’s Peke his bath, Miss Wharton's clock had stopped, Miss Perry tried a dress on me, for Mrs. Wolf I shopped I did a hundred other things,” he ended with a yawn, “IT have a heavy day ahead, I must arise at dawn. For Henry Little wants, I know, his radio improved, And some one mentioned that there was an icebox to be moved.” He gave a grunt—then soothing slumber softly stirred his breast: The letter man was taking of his well-deservéd rest. Moral So if your mail is tardy, if your alimony’s late, Don’t blue the air with nasty words, for now you know his fate; Don’t tear your hair if Uncle George's check’s confounded slow, You can’t expect the postman to do everything, you know. Henry William Hanemann, Mirandy: pvON’T YUH GAMBLE ON NO HOSS RACES. Julius: BUT IF AH WINS, AH BUYS YUH A NEW RUBY BROOCH. “YAS, AN’ IF YUH LOSES, AH BUYS ME A NEW WASHTUB. comicbooks.com