Life, 1923-11-08 · page 10 of 36
Life — November 8, 1923 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces. The upper section, "All Things to One Man," is an essay-style article where the author describes their relationship with Nature—claiming they're willing to accept it as-is, while admitting they struggle to appreciate it without explanation or obvious meaning. The lower section, "A Hint to Hilaire," appears to be a brief literary note mentioning Wilfred Scawen Blunt's will and a reference to a 1524 edition of Froissart. The main illustration depicts a domestic scene with dialogue about hearing and belief—an elderly woman sitting by a fireplace speaking with a standing man, with humorous captions suggesting the woman cannot hear clearly and asks the man to speak louder.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
LIFE - All Things to One Man HIS is how Nature stands with me. I’m willing to admit cordially she is grand, whether _ I am asked if she isn’t or if she ain't. I comply instantly when some one asks me to view a sunset and I respond with an appropriate ejacula- tion or a silent tribute. I even endure it when Nature inspires a beholder to misquote some poetry about her. But I balk—or I used to—when an imaginative enthu- siast indicates a section of Nature and exclaims, “Look! How like a man’s face (galloping horse) (wild goose) (soup tureen) (castle on the Rhine) !” I say I don’t see how. Thereupon the enthusiast bids me tilt my head a little and look at the mountain-side through a squinted left eye. Now don't I see how like a man’s profile (or a gargoyle) (or a cinnamon bun) it looks? I can’t say I do. I must therefore walk two hundred yards south, turn around twice, wink rapidly five times and see if the resem- blance of that rock formation to a bathtub or a café parfait or something doesn’t instantly strike me. I'm sorry, but I can’t see the light. So the enthusiast and I climb three-quarters of the mountain spirally, inspecting the natural phenomenon from Peg 33 HN! i Ii jt! Wh mi Ui every angle. At last we reach a vantage point from which I am told, after taking a rest, catching my breath easing my feet, to see now if that mass isn’t the very im: of a pterodactyl or an old lady drinking tea. Of course, if I don’t see it from where we are now—— But I do—I do perfectly. In spite of unfamiliarity with Nature, I'm getting to see more in her every day—and see it sooner. Fairfax Downey A Hint to Hilaire Among the bequests of Wilfrid Scawen Blunt's will, recently made public, is the gift to Hilaire Belloc of a copy of Froissart (1524 edition) and a sealed tin box not to be opened for thirty years! —Book Notes. A®? one’s immediate thought is that if this canned stuil is fitted with one of those diabolical little key things such as come with the tinned salmon, and sardines, an boiled tongue, Thursday of this week wouldn’t be a bit tov soon for Mr. Belloc to get to work on it. “My goodne: been reading now? What old-fashioned book have you “yoU CAN’T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU HEAR.” “WHAT'S THAT?” “I SAY YOU CAN’T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU HEAR.” “OH, YES I CAN, IF YOU’D ONLY SPEAK OUT LOUD AND WOULDN’T MUMBLE!” comicbooks.com