Life, 1924-11-20 · page 38 of 40
Life — November 20, 1924 — page 38: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**"Sanctum Talk"** is a promotional piece disguised as dialogue between "Life" magazine personified and "Skippy," a popular comic strip character. Skippy announces he's graduating from appearing in Life's pages to being published as a standalone book. The joke plays on the metaphor of "being in Life's book"—Skippy has been featured fifty-two times yearly for three years, and now wants to "climb up into the shelves" as his own published volume. It's essentially an advertisement for the Skippy Book, using the character's charm to sell readers on purchasing it. **"Howdy"** is a humorous short story about road etiquette. A reckless driver in a big blue car, displaying a Rotary Club sticker reading "Howdy! Half the road's yours!", crashes into a cautious little gray car, destroying it. When the gray car's owner examines the wreckage, he spots an identical sticker on the fleeing blue car. His resigned conclusion: he was simply on the "wrong half" of the road. The satire mocks aggressive drivers and ironic civic-minded signage.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Sanctum Talk i MORNING, Lire.” “Good morning, Skippy—what's on your mind?” “I'm goin’ into a book.” “\ book?” “Sure—what of it? I've been in your book now for three years—fifty-two times a year—an’ never missed a class.” “Yes, Skippy, your attendance record has been perfect.” “Well—I'm gettin’ ambitious. After three years on the libery table T want to climb up into the shelves.” “All right. Skippy, go to it.” “An’ say, Lirr—this don't mean that we ain't still travelin’ together, does it? We're still pals, ain't we?” “You're darned tootin’” “That's swell, Lire....C’mon, shake yer dignity fer a while an’ we'll go down to the drugstore an’ heave a coupla sodas. Sooky an’ the gang is waitin’ outside. What d'ya say?” “Sure, Skippy. I'm with you wherever you go.” Order the “Skippy Book” NOW— From your bookseller, or : Price, prepaid from Lire, 598 Madison Avenue, New York. WIMHOO? HALLENBECK CRAWIORD COMraNT, MEW YORK Life and Letters (Continued from page’23) can steal a fortune in pearls and escape. The plot thickens swiftly, with drum signalling and heathen mumbo-jumbo bubbling on every page. I found my- self taking it all in, even the Copra Queen's stecring her yacht triumphant ly through a typhoon when the captain himself had shouted, “We are lost!” The Copra Queen, by vay, is a fine piece of characterization. And there is a simile in “The Wedding Song” which is hereby called to the attention of Mr. Frank Wilstach “As dry as a piece of Melba toast.” Tue reflections of H. L. Mencker are always stimulating to me, and so I commend heartily to you his fourtl series of “Prejudices” (Knopf). Some of this material has already appeared in the American Mercury, and some of it is new. Mr. Mencken is still bran dishing his big stick against our insti tutions and ideals, but he pauses once in a while to take up such matters as the difference between a moral man and a man of honor and the reason why a bachelor of thirty-five has never married. Dox Herotp has made a book of his amusing sketches, some of which have appeared in Lire. The title is “So Human” (Dutton). Baird Leonard. “Howdy” blue car, driven by the big red man with the big black cigar, hurtled round the turn at a dizzy clip. The little gray car was meande along in the hands of the little gray man, who glanced around only in time to shrink from the menacing radiator and a great windshield sticker which bel- lowed genially : “Howdy! Half the road's yours!” Wildly he spun the wheel—but too late. With a neat, crunching “swish,” the big blue car sliced off his rear wheel, mudguards, and running-boards The poor remains floundered crazily to a dusty flop. The little gray man crept forth, pecring aiter the rapidly vanish ing juggernaut. Shading hi made out another cordial s flaunted its Rotary Club message of cheer from the shining rear window. This, too, beamed: “Howdy! Half the road's yours!” The little gray man pondered as he surveyed his machine. It looked like a busted bird-cage. At length he nodded, reassured. “T reckon,” he observed, slowly, “that I was just on the wrong half.” S.J. comicbooks.com