Life, 1928-04-05 · page 25 of 59
Life — April 5, 1928 — page 25: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three distinct satirical pieces mocking early 20th-century American society: **"Church Sopranos Talk Over Their Racket"**: Two female church singers discuss their profession cynically, treating sacred music as a commercial enterprise. They complain about acoustics, demand better pay, and brag about their radio deals and "Sacred Masked Soprano" billing. The satire targets both the commercialization of religion and women's calculated approach to their careers. **"Nobody Home"**: A brief joke about a woman feigning vulnerability to a waiter, then requesting he take her back to the crowd—mocking courtship rituals and female coquettishness. **Bottom cartoons and text**: Include prohibition-era smuggling humor, commentary on expensive children, and a "For Husbands" section sarcastically advising men that wives are inherently suspicious. The final poems mock romantic sentimentality and financial desperation in courtship. Overall, the page satirizes commercialism, hypocrisy in religious institutions, gender relations, and social pretense in the Jazz Age.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
A Couple of Church Sopranos Talk Over Their Racket “TISTEN, Grace, that First Con- gregational certainly is one tough house!’ “You said it, dearie; it’s a deuce of adump. It hasn't got any acoustics.” “Hasn't got any! My stars, the darn place is full of ‘em! There's enough acoustics in that barn to frighten Robinson Crusoe _ into hysterics—I wish I had a nickel for every echo that’s slapped me in the ear!” “Well, another thing, Belle—you don’t get enough support from the choir to create a draft, even. I never saw such a dumb bunch.” “Yeah. Thank the deuce I'm through with ‘em. I got a nice long engagement with the Mount Pleasant Baptist. I did a solo there last Sun- day that went over big. A few more of those and I either get more money or | jump my contract, you bet your swect spiritual life!” “Heavens above, Belle, can you get away with it? I hear they're terribly tight!” “Can 1? Well, I hope to the deuce to tell you! You should have been there for that solo—it knocked the customers right out into the vestry! There wasn't a dry eye in the place.” “Hey, whata yuh mean trying to smuggle foreign liquor into the U. S.P Don't you know we got a protective tariff for our home industries?” “Well, that’s certainly great. Oh, by the way, did I tell you I'm going to be featured in radio? The Mammoth Hymn-Book Corpora- tion’s putting on the Belfry Reveler’s Hour. I'm billed as the Sacred Masked Soprano, and if it clicks I think I can get a chance in oratorio.” “The dickens you say! That's surely swell! I wish you all kinds of luck, I'll tell the—er—cross- eyed world!” “Thanks, dearie, I must run along now—got a rehearsal for a big funeral.” “Well, be good!” ss bye! See you in Heman Fay, Jr. Nobody Home RANCES (in the garden at the dance): Oh! We're out here all alone and poor little me’s afraid of you! Watter: Well, come on and we'll go back in where the crowd is. HILDREN have become so expensive that only the poor can afford them, Acnosat (to St. Peter): Where's the trapeze? Sr. Peter: You missed it. For Husbands IVES are naturally, or artifici- ally, the most suspicious crea- tures on earth. Even on those rare occasions when a man is telling the truth the woman must prod the an- atomy of her husband's peace of mind. The merest trifles arouse her incredulity. For instance, if your woos 943 oyuy uaddvy pynoys orm apy sty Suypeas aav nod apps SU aq p[Nom uOIwssdAU0D ay} ‘ada1d weBurop nok aav ywyay,, sSMorjoz Ayaad sqvyy,, ,svop Au Burpeay,, -ploy puy jsXvs oy Burpeay j pood jusop opisdn ourzeteu ayy Bur aut 193 1uop nok gr fyyIg ULAseyy auiva | as0jaq Fuyop sam nok yey ,,j WBaIS [[VYs T ‘WOOT 9Y3 OZUT *s4a000g *§ [nog Spring AY calls from golden Eastern skies, “Sluggards, arise! Arise! To fetch and carry.” Arise! The brooklet through the meadow flows And cries, “A rose! rose! Would I might tarry.” A rose! A The lover frantically prays, “Please, sir, a raise! A raise! A raise! I want to marry.” Thomas Kerker. comicbooks.com