Life — August 19, 1926 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

GUT urrel ) the rea stud ecks ered was | of told what old- used Life Songs Slightly Tainted by Sex Symptom Recital DO not like my state of mind; I'm bitter, querulous, unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands; I do not yearn for lovelier lands. I dread the dawn’s recurrent light; I hate to go to bed at night. le, earnest folk. I cannot take the gentlest joke. 1 fnd no peace in paint or type. orld is but a lot of tripe. ioned, empty-breasted. I think, I'd be arrested. k, Lam not well. m dreams are shot to hell. My soul is crushed, my spirit sore, I do not like me any more. I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse. 1 er on the narrow house: at the thought of men... . T'm due to fall in love again. Song of One of the Girls H® in my heart I am Helen; “m Aspasia and Hero, at least. I'm Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Staél; I'm Salomé, moon of the East. Here in my soul 1 am Sappho; Lady Hamilton am I, as well. camier vies with Kitty O'Shea, Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell. ose beckoning history shook. But you are a man, and see only my pan, Sol stay at home with a book. Men "THEY hail you as their morning star Because you are the way you are. If you return the sentiment, They'll try to make you different; they have you, safe and sound, want to change you all around. Your moods and ways they put a curse on; They influence and educate. They'd alter all that they admired. ‘They make me sick, they make me tired. By Dorothy Parker A ‘ F : parm v2 aS 2 CG pri UX Verse Reporting Late Ar- rival at a Conclusion CONSIDER a lady gone reckless in love, In novels and plays: You watch her proceed in a drapery of A roseate haze. Acclaimed as a riot, a wow, and a scream, She flies with her beau to les Alpes Maritimes, And moves in a mist of a mutual dream The rest of her days. In life, if you'll listen to one who has been Observant of such, A lady in love is more frequently in Decidedly Dutch. The thorn, so to say, is revealed by the rose. The best that she gets is a sock in the nose. These authors and playwrights, I'm forced to suppose, Don’t get around much. The Burned Child Love has had his way with me. This my heart is torn and maimed Since he took his play with me. Cruel well the bow-boy aimed, Shot, and saw the feathered shaft Dripping bright and bitter red. He that shrugged his wings and laughed— Better had he left me dead. Sweet, why do you plead me, then, Who have bled so sore of that? Could I bear it once again? . . . Drop a hat, dear, droo a hat! For an Unknown Lady ADY, if you'd slumber sound, Keep your eyes upon the ground. If you'd toss and turn at night, Slip your glances left and right. Would the mornings find you gay, Never give your heart away. Would they find you pale and sad, Fling it to a whistling lad. Ah, but when his pleadings burn, Will you let my words return? Will you lock your pretty lips, And deny your finger-tips, Veil away your tender eyes, Just because some words were wise? If he whistles low and clear When the insistent moon is near And the secret stars are known,— Will your heart be still your own Just because some words were true? . . Lady, I was told them, too! General Review of the Sex Situation V JOMAN wants monogamy; Man delights in novelty. Love is woman's moon and sun; Man has other forms of fun. Woman lives but in her lord; Count to ten, and man is bored. With this the gist and sum of it, What earthly good can come of it? comicbooks.com