Life — November 5, 1925 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

FOR THE GAME'S SAKE “THERE! SEE THAT, BILL? THAT'S TH’ FIFT’ SHOT I'VE SLICED TO-DAY. 1 AIN'T JUDGIN’ MY DISTANCE RIGHT, MAYBE?” “xo, CHUCK, THAT AIN'T IT; SEEMS 1’ ME YOUR TROUBLE LIES IN YOUR STANCE.” All the morning gone in put- October ting my desks and writing- 2st table in order, and in an old notebook I did come across a set of examination questions asking me to dis- cuss the Referendum. in Switzerland and America and various other matters which are but mysteries to me now. I do marvel, with Goldsmith, that one small head could carry all I once must have known, for now I am not even on an intellectual par with George Ade’s young woman who knew that Columbus discovered America and what kind of cold cream to use and let it go at that, I having no knowledge of lotions and some grave doubts as to the authenticity of Columbus's claim. Lydia Loomis in from Morristown to luncheon, for which I did have laid my best lace and silver, albeit why I should do Lydia any better than my other friends I know not, unless my subconscious is affected by the knowledge that her income is in six figures and there be some truth in the assertion that money impresses even the least guileful of us. Lyd. did confide that she is again in love, and with a man unknown to me, so I inquired his occupation straightway, and L. cried, Aha! He doesn’t do any- thing; that’s the beauty of it—I have at last had the luck to land a loafer. Whereupon I did congratulate her warmly, for Lord! nothing is so boring as a busy man when it comes to ro- mancé, or to any other social purpose, for that matter. I do recall when Neil Hannaford was a-courting me how all my friends and family pointed out that he did not work for his living, but whilst the other lads were at the plough during the day, it was Neil who could be relied upon to fetch and carry, meet trains, etc. October: Late abed, reading the jour- nals, and noting that our 22nd magazines do now advertise themselves flagrantly, after the manner For Thumb-Wetting Alice Reech, age 22, whenever jazz music was played, wet her thumbs and went into a Gilda Gray, uttering little cries. of our trades merchants. Wondering, too, why opera singers must always be photographed stirring cake or making biscuits. Marge Boothby in, clamorous that I arise at once and accompany her to the Seventh Day Adventists, from whom she had arranged to engage a chauffeur, and when I demanded the reason for her favoring such a sect, she replied that it was the only one, with the possible exception of the old Quak- ers, that lived its religion to the letter and that its supply of chauffeurs there- fore fell so far short of the demand for them that applications were read from the pulpit at each weekly meeting. So off, my husband, poor wretch, tag- ging after us through curiosity, and met at the headquarters a likely youth whom Marge employed at once, albeit he can do no work from sun-down on Saturday until sun-down of the Sabbath. Which, as luck will have it, quoth Sam, is ex- actly the time that no person in control of his senses wants to go anywhere. Thence all to an inn, where we fell to talking politics over luncheon, Marge holding forth to the effect that she was strong for her betters in the matter of rulers and would be highly pleased if we had a local Prince of Wales with a large number of relatives. There is no percentage for me, said Marge, in being told by such and such a candidate's backers that taxicab drivers slap him on the back and call him by his first name....To a matinee at the Gaiety of “These Charming People,” one of the most civilized and amusing plays that ever I saw in my life, with Mr. Cyril Maude highly comickal and Miss Edna Best a blithe and lovely spirit. Thence home, where we found two or three gathered together for cocktayles, so we bade them stay for dinner, which went well save that Katie had got too much ham in the black bean soup. Baird Leonard. Ship’s Company cr was the good Companionship, Our matrimonial barque; We built her for a pleasure trip And sailed from dawn to dark. We've sailed beyond the farthest strip Of land, into the blue.... Will Trade: One good companionship, For raft, or what have you?. C. B. W.G. comicbooks.com