Life, 1927-05-05 · page 17 of 46
Life — May 5, 1927 — page 17: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two distinct pieces: **Top cartoon:** A satirical illustration of "Mrs. Whirling Derrish" (a woman spinning violently like a tornado) scolding a lazy man. The caption reads: "Hubby, dear, I wish you'd speak to that lazy son of ours. He toils not—neither does he spin." This is a visual pun playing on the biblical phrase "toil not, neither do they spin" (Matthew 6:28), mocking a son's idleness by comparing him to lilies of the field. **Bottom section:** "The Point of View" presents golf anecdotes from different perspectives—the player's boastful account, the caddie's deflating version, and the opponent's dismissive take. It humorously illustrates how the same golf shot gets exaggerated or minimized depending on the narrator's bias, satirizing human tendency to self-aggrandize while dismissing others' accomplishments. Both pieces target vanity and self-deception.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Mrs. Whirling Dervish (twirling violently): wwspy, ME TOILS NoT— THAT LAZY SON OF OURS, DEAR, 1 WISIt YOU'D SPEAK TO THER DOES HE SPIN, The Point of View (The player tells about it.) At qn gosh, there was my ball in a terrible lie and —— about two hundred yards from the green. So I said to myself, ‘Now's the time if ever,’ and I took my mid-iron and addressed the ball and then just con- centrated—blotted everything out of my mind but the pill and how to make the stroke. Then I took a slow, easy backswing, remembering everything the pro told me, and came down with lots of power, and— well, sir, I just naturally lifted that ball right up out of there and laid it on the green—enough back- spin to hold it on, too. Prettiest iron shot I ever saw if I do say it myself. Also,that shot gave me the holeandthe match. Not bad, bul?” (lis opponent tells about it.) nd his rot- ten drive took a couple of crazy bounces and there this lucky stiff was all teed up on a tuft of grass and only about a hundred and thirty yards from the pin— it with a mid-iron, no less, instead of the mashie any half-way decent golfer would have used. If he weren’t such an anemic bird he'd have hit it a hundred yards too far. So he takes his funny-looking swing, dropping his shoulder and doing all the wrong things there are to do and by the merest accident manages to shovel the ball onto the green—dead to the flag. Can ya beat it?” (The caddie tells about it.) “The ham with the glasses fooled everybody to-day and hit a good one on th hteenth— and it made the bald-headed ham sore because he thought he had the match sewed up—and so he didn’t give me a tip, the big stew. You wait and see how m: balls that cl skate needs to play a round the next time I caddy for him.” E. L. Gordy. NXIOUS MOTHER: And is my boy really trying? Voice from the Ringside: WELL, IT LOOKS AS IP YOUNG BIFFO WERE ABOUT TO BE ROCKED TO SLEEP. “WHY, GEORGE, AREN’T THE BED-TIME STORIES OVER YET?” and then the darned fool plays comicbooks.com’