Life, 1925-11-12 · page 10 of 41
Life — November 12, 1925 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Life* magazine's "Mrs. Peps's Diary" column (dated October 23rd-24th) combines personal diary entries with a satirical illustration. The diary discusses social observations—bridge games, moral concerns about suicide, and domestic life with her husband and secretary. The cartoon below depicts a street scene with working-class figures, including what appears to be a street vendor or hawker with a cart. A man addresses someone named "Mike" or "Woncha," asking them to take charge of a "package" while referencing "the bunch"—likely depicting street-level commerce or petty trade. The satire appears to target lower-class street commerce and dialect speech, reflecting early 20th-century class-based humor common in *Life* magazine's approach to urban working-class life.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- LIFE - October Up so betimes that I was minded of the lark, upon which spirited bird I did ponder whilst 23rd dressing, for never have I seen or heard of it save in Elizabethan literature, and 1 do mean to make in- quiry about it the next time I see Will Beebe. Lord! There are well nigh as many things undreamed of in my philosophy as there were in Horatio’s. My husband, poor wretch, a-singing of his matins as usual, but I have marked of late that he sometimes varies his répertoire of hymns with a secular interpolation, and this morning he did treat us to a terrible refrain beginning “When the violin plays a song of sin,” confessing, upon direct questioning, that Bob Akin had had it from Paris. To luncheon at an inn with some of my croni ind when I did mention that yester- day I did something which I had never expected in my life to do, i. ¢., promise to be a member of a committee, Ruth Roberts quoth, That's nought—last summer I ate snails and went to a bull fight. Thence with Eloise Brown to a shop which specializes in rare foodstuffs, and laid in a fine supply of mackerel tinned in white wine, bottled egg and sherry, ete. going afterwards for a fitting on of my new black velvet gown. I do fear it is too tight in the sleeves for comfort and that when I wear it I shall, for that reason, be unable to carry on a pleasant conversation or put my mind on a bridge game, but the designer would give me no ease in the seams soever, asking me if I desired to look frumpish, which, God knows, I do not want to do at such a price. I have long held that the higher moral tone of the nineties was not unconnected with their sartorial rigour, What a pleasure it must have been in those days to undress and go to bed! This morning I did spend in the making of a October : ae ; 4 new curtain for Sam's bathroom whilst listening 2#th 10 a tale of woe from Elsie Anders, and from her goings-on one would think the poor wretch contem- plated suicide, yet when I tried to pin her down I could discover nought more serious than that her husband won't take her to Nassau this winter and that her friends mis- understand her. Lord! I can never twig all this fuss about being misunderstood. I much prefer never to be fathomed, myself, and shall consider it a great boon if I can finish out my life without anybody's actually getting wise to me. Nor did I ask Elsie to stop to luncheon, neither, albeit we had sweetbreads with Virginia ham, for- asmuch as her discourse annoyed me. In the afternoon came my new secretary, Miss Mary Rose, whom Sam has (Continued on page 35) “FER TH’ LOVEA MIKE, EM’LY, TAKE CHARGE 0’ THIS PACKARD, WONCHA? THERE'S TH’ BUNCH!” comicbooks.com