Life, 1924-12-18 · page 14 of 37
Life — December 18, 1924 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a satirical diary entry dated December 11th-12th, alongside illustrations. The top cartoon shows "Mistletoe: The Foxy Taxi-Driver"—a humorous sketch of an automobile accident involving a taxi. The main story, "The Realist," depicts an artist painting mud stains rather than idealized landscapes, satirizing artistic pretension. The lower illustration shows two street children in an urban alley, with dialogue: "WOR'D LIKE FOR CHRISTMAS!—EMILY, I'D SCARE TH' LIVERS OUTA YA IF I WAS T' TELL YA!" This cartoon satirizes class disparities during the Christmas season, contrasting children's innocent holiday hopes with urban poverty's grim realities. The dialogue suggests children have learned cynicism from their harsh circumstances rather than maintaining innocent Christmas wishes.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
* LIFE * MISTLETOE THE FOXY TANI-DRIVER The Realist E painted a beautiful picture—a picture of rippling streams, of azure skies, of flowered gardens. When he had finished, he picked up a handful of mud, which he flung upon his work. Then, upon another canvas, he painted a picture of the mud stains. : HAT'S the matter with Mama this morning?” “Oh, she’s been looking for a Christmas card from that woman she hoped wouldn't have the nerve to send her one and it hasn't come yet.” December Home by the earliest train it was civilized to take from the B. s’, and never again sh. Mth my husband, poor wretch, persuade me to visit stupid people for his own professional ends. Lord! i plays a woman clad in evening garb can walk out into « snow storm, leaving any given unpleasant party flat, but real life one must stick things out. My relief fri nostalgia did put me in a fantastic mood, so I sat me dow and wrote to my parfumeur in Paris telling him that | must cease to use such fragile, undependable bottles, fora much as I cannot afford to lay out seven dollars an o1 on a scent put up in a container which even the dista: rumble of an elevated train will overturn....The Yulcti issues of the magazines are now on the stands, and I d wonder why some wag of an editor did not print “Do N Open Until Christmas” on his title page. Two packag: bearing that legend did arrive this day, and I pray that be given strength to withstand the curiosity which the ma: date awakens. At my accounts betimes, emerging with such December : aa ee ‘ ; depression that I did think seriously for a fev 2th moments of taking up mental science against the asperities of an existence whose woes must. the sooth sayers are to be credited, be largely imaginary. So man people in one extremity or another have come to me of lat (Continued on page 32) “wor'’p 1 like FOR CHRISTMAS!—EM'LY, I'D SCARE TH’ LIVERS OUTA YA IF I WAS T’ TELL yal” comicbooks.com