Life — October 22, 1925 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

A great aching along the sides of my legs this morn- ing from having over-prac- « Charleston steps which young Frances Bonfoey taught me, I being zealou achieve the ease and abandon in that dance which permits its more en- thusiastic performers to clutch at an in- visible something in the air, just as Marge Boothhy wants to bring her French to October 19th ticed 1 where she can open a sentence with “Alors.” So telephoned Miss Wright to come and give me a brisk massage, she did straightway, me also of one of her patients id gone last season to a tailor with the complaint that the summer er- mine which he had put on her coat had ned white with the arrival of cold weather. To luncheon with Laura King in the sitting-room of her hotel suite, neglecting to order salad with my deviled lobster and Julienne potatoes, so that when Laura asked, before dessert, Will you have a sweet? I said, No, thank you, but I should like a sour, n the waiter took my request for a dill pickle with no astonishment soever, in marked contrast to Laura, who nevertheless ate with her cheese vf the two fine ones which he ht me. Asking for news of my mmy Jones, I did learn that some of her investments have been un- fortunate and that she has embarked in ence on a scheme of economy, a proceeding so foreign to her nature that [did enquire how she had set about it. Last week she gave St. Paul's a silver communion service which it didn’t need, ied Laura, but she’s stopped using the elevator in her house because it costs seventeen dollars a month to run it. Shopping on my way home, I cd some shelled popcorn at “s, and bore off two cartons of it, all a-twitter, which not t whereuy) consey resp October The day begun pleasantly with Canadian bacon for 20th breakfast, over which I did read in the publick prints of a woman who, beholding’ robbers entering the restaurant where she was dining, did drop her jewels into a beaker of coffee, therchy retaining them, and I was re- minded of how my grandmother used to secrete articles of value in the laundry hamper, and how I myself whilst in Traffic Cop: DON’T YOU KNOW THERE'S NO PARKIN’ ALLOWED’ HERE? YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT FOR YOUR FRIENDS AROUND THE CORNER. college would store bank notes in my Bible. Falling to a little book called "New York in Seven Days,” I grew so agog over the many things I do not know about my own city that I did ring up Marge Boothby and drag her forth on a tour of exploration. Our luncheon at Fraunces’ Tavern, where I have always longed, but neglected, to go, and I was at some pains to conceal from Marge the tears which do always come to my eyes at the sight of flags, patriotic documents and old men in uni- NUBBVILLE SPARK DUNK MOLDY’S MAIL-ORDER SAXOPHONE CAME BY PARCEL POST THIS MORNIN’, DAMAGED BEYOND REPAIR. FORTUNATELY IT WAS NOT INSURED. form, nor was I able to collect myself until reminded me of the fresh mushrooms awaiting us below. Thence to the Battery, where we boarded the sight-seeing boat which goes around Manhattan Island, Marge taking a snap- shot of me perched against the railing so that Sam would credit our story later, and so for an,informing cruise of three hours, and when the megaphone man, boasting the value of the expedi- tion, ventured that not one person on deck could tell how Wall Street got its name, I contradicted him at once, hav- ing read about it in my little book only this morning, thereby drawing to us considerable provincial attention, to the embarrassment of Marge, who was eat- ing peanuts. Arriving home betimes, our tale did not create the stir with Samuel which we had anticipated, for- asmuch as we found him in a fearful wax through his inability to remove the top from a shaker of cocktayles which he had=made....This night I did begin to read Carlyle’s French Revolution, fearful of dying before having done so, Baird Leonard. she Willing E: I like any kind of wild game Do you? Sune: Yes; do you happen to know a good one? comicbooks.com