Life, 1926-07-22 · page 11 of 37
Life — July 22, 1926 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three separate humor pieces typical of early 20th-century Life magazine: 1. **"You All Know Me"**: A first-person monologue by a wealthy, ostentatious man boasting of his possessions (Rolls-Royces, yachts, push-buttons) and casual cruelty (threatening his son-in-law). The satire mocks nouveau riche excess and arrogance. 2. **"Agreeable"** (top cartoon): Shows a couple where the woman (Dora) proposes doing "something different" and the man (President Paul) dismissively refuses with threatened violence. It's satirizing male domination in relationships. 3. **"Beach Nuts"** and **"Boatloads"**: Brief humorous observations about summer vacation behavior and teaching anecdotes. The page satirizes wealth, masculine privilege, and social pretension through exaggeration and irony—standard Life magazine fare.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
2: ee You All Know Me OWN a flock of Rolls-Royces. I I own a couple of shooting es- tates and an oil-burning yacht, and when I am talking to a lady I sprawl all over the drawing-room furniture. I have sixteen push-buttons on my desk and when I want anything donc, | simply play a tune on them and an army of assistants comes tumbling in. Then, putting my thumbs in my vest holes, I give my orders. I wear spats, a cutaway coat and a bat-wing collar, and when my daughter marries against my wishes, I pull wildly at my collar, puff out ike a pair of New Eng- ace bellows, shake my fist at my new son-in-law and say, “I'll die first.” I always stay up until three o'clock in the morning, going’ from one to another of my night clubs. When I go into one of my night clubs, the prettiest girl in the room always comes flying to me and plops into my lap. I chuck her under the chin good- naturedly and give her a tip on the stock market. Bright and early, the next morn- ing, | go down to my office, push a “MRS. FISHNOODLE TOLD ME SIL OF HERSEL \’ You KNOW THEY FIND IT AINT 80 EA AGREEABLE Dora: 1’p LIKE TO DO SOMETIIIN DIF FE! Persistent Paul: Avi niGutT. YoU TRY TO KISS ME AND I'LL SLAP YOUR PACE. button and clean up another million on the market. I guess you wonder who I am. Well, bo, I'll tell you. I am the millionaire in the movies. So long. Homer Croy. BBREVIATED—What is home without a moth? BEEN HAVIN’ SOME X-RAY PICTURES TAKEN & TERRIBLE EXPENSIV TO CATCH A HUSBAND WITH FANCY PHOTOGRAPHS AND THE wipow’LL THESE DAYS.” Beach Nuts HE fellow without a ukulele, striving to atone for this vital deficiency by donning the girls’ ng-cloaks and strutting about in the idea of feminine impersonation. triped-suit daddy who arrying his shricking into the water and submerging her comple’ The languid blonde, « red in the very ultimate mode of bathing phernalia, and with an experience of ocean water confined strictly to the comical assurance of her girl- friend that it is quite, quite wet. The cnormously obese mama, down for the summer in order to reduce, her efforts along this line consisting in unwrapping. delicates- sen sandwiches and admonishing little Sammie not to go too far out or he won't get any sauerkraut. The middle-aged gentleman who is out only for the stretched on the beach in a frantic, drastically successful endeavor to get completely and lastingly sunburnt. Simonetta. Boatloads TEACHER was trying to de- the word “sleigh.” “Now, she said, “what is it that comes along on runners?” “Rum,” answered the five-year- old New Yorker sapiently. comicbooks.com