Life, 1928-03-22 · page 15 of 34
Life — March 22, 1928 — page 15: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This fairy tale parody satirizes economic hardship and working-class desperation. A young, naive fairy asks a banker and broker what they wish for. Instead of romantic or noble desires, both respond with brutally practical demands: the banker wants song and natural beauty, while the broker—staring from a limousine—wants basic survival needs: ham, eggs, coffee, shoes, shirts, and money for rent and gloves. The joke critiques how capitalism has stripped away idealism. Rather than magical wishes, even fantastical creatures now crave mundane material necessities. This likely reflects post-WWI economic anxieties when *Life* magazine frequently lampooned wealth inequality and the grim realities facing ordinary workers.
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The Disillusioned Sprite ASERTAIN youthful good fairy, anxious to perform some com- mendable deeds, once materialized in a room where there were three men —a banker, a broker and a_ poet. Now, it must be remembered that this was a very young, ingenuous and inexperienced fairy, who had never before visited the haunts of men. “What do you wish for?” she asked the banker, touching him with her magic wand, “Td said the banker, plac- ing the tips of his bejeweled fingers together across his ample waistline, “I desire the song of the lark and the freshness of the dew. I desire to love and aid my fellow men.” iry smiled sweetly. “And she asked of the broker. said the well-tailored broker, gazing reflectively out of the window at his gleaming limousine, “I want Well, I s'pose we should be sayin’ somethin’ comical on tha way down, Bill.” In Tuese Mustn’t-Wasu-Your-Face Days “Oh, dear, that makes three drops on my face. to hear the laughter of happy chil- dren and capture the blitheness of the sunshine. I want to splash in moonbeams and drink in the beauty of a starry night.” The gentle little sprite was thrilled. Other elves had told her of humanity's selfishness, but this was all so different. Finally she approached the poet. “Dealer in fantasies, what wouldst thou?” she asked, smiling beatifically. The starving poet turned up the collar of his threadbare jacket and blew on his hands. “I'd like a tremendous platter of ham and eggs,” he said, “and a cup of coffee and a pair of new shoes, size 8E. I also could use a dozen shirts, twelve dollars to pay my room rent and a pair of gloves. And, while you're about it, a meal ticket for Joe’s Lunch would come in mighty handy.” That, children, was many years ago. And since then no good fairy has ever visited the earth. ALL. Confidences WENDOLYN: My _ boy friend always says the right thing at the right time. Ermyntrupe: My boy friend is awfully tedious, too, ” It’s getting positively water-logged. Inside Information NEWSPAPER ownership involves constant worry and annoyance which affect the strongest nerves. A big newspaper owner has never a minute he can rightly call his own. On this subject I am well qualified to speak, as I am one of the largest newspaper owners in the United States. And the wife has just served notice on me that this is the last time she intends to tell me to get out on the back porch and tie them up in bundles so the old rag man can pick them up. W.W. HH. Untucky Lirtte Percu: Ooh, Mama, look at that nice juicy worm! Mother Perch: Not a nibble, child! comicbooks.com