Life, 1924-12-25 · page 14 of 37
Life — December 25, 1924 — page 14: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct pieces: **"The Modest Mistletoe"** — A poem by A.H. Fotherell about a mistletoe character who blushes and flees upon witnessing improper behavior below (likely kissing or romantic conduct). The accompanying illustration shows spiders and insects in a web, suggesting voyeuristic observation. **"Mrs. Pep's Diary"** — A humorous domestic diary entry from December 1918 describing the author's husband's restless behavior and a Christmas gift of game stamps. The satirical commentary critiques male novelists' claims about lost virginity. **"The Auto Pedestrians"** — Three cartoon panels showing automobiles with pedestrians clinging to or being struck by them, captioned with instructions like "Drive on to th' next bank." This satirizes reckless driving and pedestrian danger in early automobile culture. The humor targets Victorian propriety, gender stereotypes, and modern traffic hazards.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- LIFE - The Modest’ Mistletoe “Cy. oh, oh!” Cried the Mistletoe, Shocked by what it saw below. Its berries, of a pearly white, Turned opal pink at such a sight. “Oh!” cried the Mistletoe. », no, no!” Cried the Mistletoe. “Stop before too far you go. Kiss the mid-Victorian way, Else I really cannot stay; No,” cried the Mistletoe. Lo, lo, lo, And the Mistletoe A crimson flush began to show. It blushed with shame for maids and men And turned to Holly there and then— Gone was the Mistletoe. A, H. Folwell ANDIT 1s Rear Seat: Drive on to th’ next ban} Herb. Ya dassent park ya car on this street. cC Mr. Bug: my, My! WHAT'S THE TROUBLE HERE? Mrs, Spider: TROUBLE! WHY, EVERYTHING'S GOING TO RUIN BECAUSE MY HUSBAND'S TAKEN TO SPIN THOSE CROSSWORD PUZZLES AND WON'T DO A STROKE OF WORK AROUND THE PLACE. Wee Lops Diar y> December This morning did my husband, poor wretch, 2 18th PeFate me roundly for gadding about, when ¢ : Lord! it was not until yesterday that I met up with anybody selling tuberculosis stamps. A soft answer failing on its Biblical guarantee, I did call upon him boldly not to be a brute, whereupon he burst into laughter and left the house in high good humour....A great package by the first post from the Mistress Archer I met in Youngs- town, and whilst I was lamenting that a person of such slight acquaintance should have the bad taste to add me to her Christmas list, I opened it up, and luckily, too, for it turned out to be wild duck, sent merely as a graceful courtesy. But when we are to eat it I know not, being engaged to dine abroad five nights running. Now that I ponder it, never in my life have I received a present of game at a time when it was convenient to enjoy it.... Reading this afternoon in a book by Ben Hecht, I did come upon the statement that the wearing of gray stock- ings is a confession of lost virginity, an animadversion which confirms me in my conviction that male novelists, with the exception of Michael Arlen, should say as little (Continued on page 31) THE AUTO PEDESTRIANS comicbooks.com