Life — March 12, 1925 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

One Mother to Another Scene: A table in the remote corner fatea room. Two old, old ladies are pring tea, HE First Orn Lapy: Miz’ Machree, ma’am, may Ah inquiah inter de con- dition ob yo’ pussonal well-bein’? Tue Seconp Oro Lapy: Yez can that, me dear. Speakin’ fer meself, i's not so good. Oi have too much rk fer an auld wumman, Tue First: Lawzy, Miz’ Machree, ‘tit de troof? Bein’ a mammy is a at honah but it's a powahful re- Yes, ma’ant. Tue Seconp: It ain't only th’ wurrk, it’s the stickin’ to th’ lines. Sorra a manicure can Oi have for them fingers » wrinkled and tile warn wit’ care.” Tue First: Manicure—shucks! Wuz you me, bakin’ nem sweet patooties and iryin’ those chickum and flappin’ nem fapjacks all day long fo’ all dose fool folkses whut's screamin’ to git back to y mammy, mammy... Tue Seconp: Hauld yer whist! How vould yez like to be livin’ fer fifty year in a tumble-down shack, thryin’ to keep them roses—th’ curse 0’ Crom- well on 'em—coverin’ the houseen and sorra a chanst to make a repair on it? Tumble-down it must be, an’ th’ rain comin’ in an’ wettin’ me poor auld hones. Tue First (growing somewhat ex- cited): Miz’ Machree, yo’ ain’ done thin’ yet!) When Ah ain’ cookin’ Ah has to tend de fields ob cotton an’ rush down to ‘at ole station to meet ‘at ole Homesick Limited,” an’—an’ Tne Seconn: Easy, now, easy. Have ye no knowledge of what Oi'm supposed to do? If they're hung on the highest tree, Oi'm supposed to climb up an’ cut em down. Climb up! Me an’ me auld hones. An’ if they’re drowned in th’ deepest sea—d’ye know what Oi have to do? Put on a divin’ shuit, avagh, an’ go down after ‘em, Tue First: Well, Ah knows Ah’s a po’, down-trodden people, Ah is, but Ah aimin’ ter stan’ much mo’ ob ‘at oolishment. Tue Seconn (sniffing): Ye're awful perticular fer a nagur-— Tue First (swiftly removing her make-up): You be careful to whom is it you're spikking, Mommeh Machree! Tue Seconn (surveying her): Oho, so that’s it, is it? Ye're— <ponsability. PUTTING IT OVER WITH A BANG Tue First: Yes, thet’s it. An’ vat about it? Tue Secon (quietly finishing her tea): Sure, alannah, that’s fine. Leave yez just have patience. Tue First: Patience? Tue Seconn: Sure. If we can kape th’ paple singin’ songs about us, Mammy...me an’ you an’ yer make-up will lick th’ Ku Klux Klan yet! Curtarn. Henry William Hanemann. “THIS can’t be Heaven,” said the newly arrived reformer to St Peter. “Everybody seems happy.” MARCH 17TH IN THE SUBWAY “UM TELLIN’ YE, KELLY, IT OUGHT T’ BE A MU-NI-CIPAL HOLIDAY—WHO D’ THEY THINK BUILT THIS CITY, ANNYWAY?” Experience HEN I was a lad, because my gaze Was cramped by youthful eyes (For ah, it’s the years bring wisdom’s ways— Unless the patient dies) : Wherever I looked, the view scemed punk; Hypocrisy everywhere. Uplift? Junk! And Progress, most of it, nine-tenths bunk— For I was young—and “wise”! But now that I'm sere, and the years have fled— As fled the recent Kaiser— Now that I've grown to an old, instead Of a youthful, moralizer ; Wherever I look, the view scems punk ; Hypocrisy everywhere. Uplift? Junk! And Progress, all of it, nine-tenths bunk— For I am old—and wiser! Gardner Rea, Recollections of a Distant San Francisco Week-End HE Gibsons at thé St. Francis the Honolulu cocktails at Tate's... the Ernie Number Twos at Collins and Wheeland’s...the Pisco Punch at the Bank Exchange Bar...the Russian cocktails at the Techau Tavern...the Golden State champagne at the Cliff House...the New Orleans fizzes at the bar in Market Street...the Bronxes at The Western...the Bromo-Seltzers at the little drug store on Powell Street. C.G.S. comicbooks.com