Life — April 7, 1927 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

“THEN GIVE MY WIFE A GLASS.” Letter to a Landlord with a Heart of Gold Drak Goov Kinp Mr. Lanp- Lonrp: Thank you so much for dispossess- ing me. It came as such a pleasant surprise. You were a dear to think of it. 1 didn’t know a thing about it un- til late last night when I came up the street and saw all the things out on the sidewalk. I was terribly tired and wishing I could just tumble into bed without climbing those three flights of stairs. Imagine my delight when I saw that, through your thoughtfulness, I could do exactly that. I was just in time for a nice cold shower before retiring, the gentlemen of the street-cleaning department were washing off the block at that hour, And there were my pajamas spread out across the foot of the bed and my bathrobe on the lamp-post. It was swect of you, too, to put the bed up against that arc- light. It made a perfect reading lamp. How did you know that I always read before I go to sleep? And then the ice chest was so handy. I just needed to stretch a little to snatch a few slices of chicken and gn apple for a mid- night feast. Mr. McCarthy, the officer on our block, sat down on the chaise-longue and shared my little supper. We had a fine chat. At first I thought he w going to be mean about my 8 t blocking traffic but I told him that dispossession is nine points of the law and everything was all right. In fact, he put my rug down for me, started the radio and took the meas- urements for new curtain rods. I will have to hang my curtains between the two lamp-posts and I'm afraid that’s Conclusive “WOW DO YOU KNOW EDNA AND JIM ARE MARRIED? “1 SAW HER RIDING IN THE BACK SEAT.” going to mean a lot of work but it’s worth it, really. Fortunately, I had taken an awning from a night club, just for a prank, so I won't have to worry about bad weather. This morning early, I was awak- ened by the milkman’s horse snug- gling alongside of me, poor fellow, He was so very sleepy I hadn't the heart to disturb him. So I threw a blanket over his shoulders and slipped quietly out of bed. Then | dressed, swept off the sidewalk and made some coffee. That old Christ- mas tree in the gutter made a dandy fire. So off to work, bright and clear-headed. There’s nothing like sleeping in the open air. I'd always wanted to do it before but I never got around to it. I'm simply crazy about my new place. Never a dull moment. So many interesting people passing through oll the time. Affectionately yours, Apartment 3D. P. S. I found the cat in the third drawer of my dresser, thank you. That was your one mistake. But of course you couldn't know that I al- ways keep him in the second drawer. Phyllis Ryan. Home Thoughts From Abroad ‘O me it alw: ous thing So many poems praise the Eng- lish spring, And (with so few exceptions) have been written By Englishmen not living in Great Britain. seems a curi- Conversely, every time I read some verses That blast America with jeers and curses, They're traceable to Yankees far from home Who spend their springs in Paris or in Rome. Norman R. Jaffray. Binneyville Item OE BIGGS, local iceman, be- lieves he has cooled the ardor of the unknown saxophonist who has been serenading his daughter. Last evening Joe threw a quan tity of water on the young swain from an upstairs window. The water had been previously frozen. comicbooks.com