Life, 1926-02-18 · page 5 of 36
Life — February 18, 1926 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three separate pieces of social satire typical of early 20th-century Life magazine: 1. **"Life - Organ Recital"**: A poem mocking wealthy women (Mrs. Proctor and Mrs. Brown) who constantly complain about minor ailments—digestive issues, fatigue, various medical complaints—while discussing their privileged lifestyle. The satire targets hypochondria among the leisure class. 2. **"The New Day"**: A story by Stanley Jones about Joe Alger, depicting labor/working-class agitation. Joe uses elevator metaphors to discuss social consciousness and collective action ("light the torch for a new day"), suggesting early 20th-century labor organizing sentiment. 3. **"An Honor Man"**: A brief domestic humor piece about a husband's "final lesson in memory training"—forgetting to mail his wife's letter. All reflect Life's satirical focus on class dynamics and social behavior.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Organ Recital “CYH, yes, Mrs. Proctor, for ths I've y know, my physiciar rbidden My health, Mrs. Pr hh ad'ly bee I'm not allowed pastries, potatoes or meats My heart is erratic, I'm weak and ast 's emphati y run down! stomach’s awry, It Demands a t diet I must be kept quiet,” Enthused Mrs. Brown. Replicd Mrs. Proctor, with querulous quicknes “You know, Mrs. Brown, that I never complain, But several sensational sieges of sickness A little lumbago, a touch of ptomaine, ty nephritis, inful gastrit And weak-in-the-kneesy, 1 must take it easy It's time for a Budding Bard: piv YoU READ MY POEM IN TO-DAY'S PAPER? Thus having pared their competitive “YES, AND IT ALONE WAS WORTH THE TWO CENTS,” Reactions, es proceeded to load Themselves with a ntiful table dhote dinner MET Joe Alger in the club this morning, Joe is from And, still symptoms swapping the hirsute West, where men are what-they-say-they-are, They fared forth and wimmen are nervous. I could sce he had a grievance. At intervals stopp “Sa-ay,” he growled, “what's the idea of takin’ off the To dwell on hats in the elevators, heh? Women got you buffaloed? It's great for the “Joe,” I quavered, “you strike a chord dear to my heart. That ailment concocters, It is a senseless, useless, spineless, ridiculous gesture.” Mesdames “Yeh,” stormed Joe, angrily twisting a leg off the library Are womer table You sardine into one of these dinky, rubber-sided elevators, an’ so help me if—" “every dod-blasted sap don’t go to clawin’ off his hat!" “Right,” howled Joe. “An’ why? Tell me why. Go on!” “They're she my voice cracked. “So many sheep. Slaves to strangers’ opinions.” We stamped out together. “Joe, let's get together on this thing. We can light the torch for a new day. The elevator filled rapidly. Strange women crowded us apart. It seemed as if half the women in the world pushed in. We lost sight of each other. Then, suddenly, they all pushed out. Joe's bulbous head glowed like a pink egg under the subdued light. And so did mine. Stanley Jones. An Honor Man IFE: Here's a letter you've been forgetting to mail for a week. Hussy: Confound it! That's my final lesson in that @$xq!!!! course in mem- Bold Burglar: wiat's THAT MOVIN’ UNDER THAT SHEET? ory training ! Wife: THAT's ONLY MY HUSBAND, MISTER—HE'S A KLANSMAN comicbooks.com