Life, 1924-12-25 · page 24 of 37
Life — December 25, 1924 — page 24: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a sentimental Christmas story by Percy L. Crosby contrasting childhood innocence with urban poverty. **Skippy** is a cheerful, well-off boy who encounters **Sooky Singer**, a poor orphan living in a coal yard who receives cast-off clothes from charity-minded neighbors. The narrative reveals Sooky's dignified poverty: he pretends to receive toys from uncles but actually gives them to poorer children; his Christmas shopping consists of buying his mother an apron. When Skippy enthusiastically celebrates multiple holidays with coins jingling in his pockets, Sooky maintains quiet dignity rather than admit his deprivation. The satire targets not Sooky but middle-class hypocrisy—those who pass rejected orphanage clothes as Christian "sacrifice" while children like Sooky endure winter shivering as their only "exercise." The story's conclusion shows Sooky alone, emotionally overwhelmed by his circumstances yet finding small comfort in friendship and his mother's love. It's social commentary wrapped in a touching narrative about economic inequality during the Depression era.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
He Passes the Compliments of the Season to Sooky HEN clothes were so far gone as to be rejected by Orphan Asylums, neighbors passed them on to Sooky Singer. But never without a surge of Christian sacrifice. In a bundle of such presents, Sooky huddled against the coal yard away from the wind and tried not to won- der about Christmas. During winter months, shivering was the only exercise Sooky got. Nevertheless he managed to whistle between teeth clicks. He was interrupted by the arrival of Skippy, swerving toward him at full speed. “Lo, Sook!” panted Skippy. “Happy Columbus Day! Happy April Fool's Day! Merry Fourth o’ July!” “What's the matter with Day?” replied Sooky. ‘That oofs me—how dja think o! that?” asked Skippy. “Oh, I dunno! It just come.” “Gee, if we could only pull off some of that stuff up at the Orpheeum, we'd be a riot, Sook.” “And on Christmas Eve! Arbor C'n you imagine !” “Don’t cha feel like ya just can't wait till Christmas —think of it, to-morrow, no less?” and Skippy jigged in joyful anticipation, “Oh, I dunno, Skip, drawled Sooky, “I'm gettin’ kind o° fed up with nothin’ but the same old toys every year.” “I been over to your house 'n’ I never seen no toys. No, sir! Not even one little toy.” “Oh, o° course! I forgot—it's New Year's when I get mine. Oh, boy! “What's the matter with Christ- mas?” inquired Skippy. “Don’t cha b'leeve in it or somethin’? “Oh, sure! I b'leeve in it, but it's the uncles 'n’ aunts wot does I just only wisht you could see the toys they bring! Honest! Without ‘zadjeration ya can’t move aroun’ without trippin’ over them.” “What do ya do with all these toys? Nobody never sees 'em.” “I just give ‘em to the poor.” “Gee, I forgot!” interrupted Skippy. “I have to do my Christmas shoppin’ —s'long, Sook.” “Oh, you're late! Mine's done long ago—I got my mother another apron.” “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!” shouted Skippy, in a jingle of coins, “Aw the h— wid New Year's!” an- swered Sooky, then: “M-Merry Christ- mas, Skip!” Alone, Sooky wandered to the toy store for a final look at the window display. There he gazed until the ranks of hustling shoppers thinned to store keepers returning home for the night. Too numb to stick it out any longer, Sooky plodded toward home, only stop- ping wherever a Christmas tree spar- kled in a window. Attracted by the solitary light in the kitchen of his house, he redoubled his gait, and reaching the broken lattice work under the porch, groped for some time in search of his mother’s present. Sud- denly it occurred to him that he had changed the hiding-place back to the leader pipe. With the package in his hand, he pressed until certain that the price tag was still undisturbed, then entered the house whistling. Under blankets and tattered clothes, Sooky listened to the Christmas chimes. His teeth no longer clicked, but ground tight in an effort not to wonder about it all. Even so, hot tears trickled on the bare mattress before he could pull himself together. “Only one more day ‘n’ itll be all over but the shoutin’ As e spok Sooky watched the puffs of vapor silhouetted against the frost- ed panes. Somehow the thought almost cheered him. Snuggling deeper into the covers, he thought of Skip- py, and then he chuckled: “Fancy him calling me a wise-cracker.” Perey L. Crosby comicbooks.com