Life, 1924-11-27 · page 9 of 37
Life — November 27, 1924 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
The page contains three distinct pieces: 1. **"Lullaby"** - A sentimental poem by Dorothy Parker about sleep and childhood. 2. **"Fable"** - A brief satirical story about a man who writes on various subjects but submits nothing to magazines, claiming their content isn't good. The accompanying cartoon shows three figures (appears to be editors or magazine staff) discussing this man. The satire mocks both struggling writers with inflated self-regard and perhaps magazine editors' selectivity. 3. **"At the Concert"** and **"Chameleonic"** - Short humorous pieces about a weeping student and an automobile saleswoman, respectively. The illustration labeled "Civic Pride" depicts a visitor admiring a city skyline while citizens beam with pride—likely satirizing American urban boosterism.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Lullaby S P, pretty lady, the night is enfolding you. Drift, and so lightly, on crystalline streams. Wrapped in its perfumes, the darkness is holding you; Starlight bespangles the way of your dreams. Chorus the nightingales, wistfully amorous; Blessedly quiet, the blare of the day. All the sweet hours, may your visions be glamourous,— Sleep, pretty lady, as long as you may. Sleep, pretty lady, the night shall be still for you; Silvered and silent, it watches your rest. Each little breeze, in its eagerness, will for you Murmur the melodies ancient and blest. So in the midnight does happiness capture us; Morning is dim with another day’s tears. Give yourself sweetly to images rapturous,— Sleep, pretty lady, a couple of years. Sleep, pretty lady, the world awaits day with you; Girlish and golden, the slender young moon. Grant the fond darkness its mystical way with you, Morning returns to us ever too soon. Roses unfold, in their loveliness, all for you; Blossom the lilies for hope of your glance. When you're awake, all the men go and fall for you— Sleep, pretty lady, and give me a chance. Dorothy Parker, Fable NCE upon a time a man wrote on all sorts of subjects but sent nothing to the magazines. He said he knew it wasn't as good as anything they had printed. UBLISHED reports of income taxes were important, the newspapers believed. That is, important, if true. a Mae; YOUR BOY FRIEND DRESSES VERY COLLEGIATE, DON'T HE? Rae: Dresses? DeARIE, Y’ OUGHTA HEAR Him talk! wHy, SAY, THE SCHOOL HE COMES FROM TURNS OUT SUCH COL- LEGIATE SLANGSTERS YOU'D NEVER SUSPECT 'EM OF BEIN’ EDUCATED! CIVIC PRIDE Visitor: you HAVE A WONDERFUL CITY HERE, Citizen (modestly): THANKS, At the Concert 'HE soul-gripping strains of the violin floated through the great marble hall, in a far corner of which, near the high French window, the young student wept as if his heart would break. Three worldly men, who sat near by, crit- ically observed him. ” said the first said the second; 1e weeps because he is in love.” he weeps because he is not in “You are both wrong,” interrupted the third; “he weeps because he has failed to solve the riddle of the universe.” Little did the great men realize that the young student wept merely because the melody was so beautiful. C.G.S. Chameleonic UTOMOBILE SALESMAN: And what type of car do you prefer, madam? Farr Prospect: I hardly know. I’ve brought photo- graphs of my house, my dog, and my husband to assist you, and here's a list of my favorite books. comicbooks.com