Life — April 19, 1928 — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

Private: Hey! Wot's de idea? Dere's a mouse in dis stew! Army Cook: Sh! Not so loud! They all might want one! Nes Lops Diary March Discoursing this morning with my husband, poor 30th wretch, as to whether or not we might be happier in reduced circumstances, with him driving a taxi and me tending a pot-au-feu, for then he would not worry about his cigars’ keeping properly or the rise and fall of Industrial Alabaster, nor I over my dressmakers’ bill or the way the silver looks, and we decided that we should do better to keep on as we are, albeit there are moments when the evident futi of this and that does threaten me with a state of mind which could be com- pletely contented with cutting out paper dolls. So up and did on my new Louiseboulanger coat made along Inverness lines with an undercape, very ingenious and dégagé, and to lunch with E. Seabury, who did tell me of the schoolteacher who went wrathfully to the parent of the boy who, in response to her direct query, “Who wrote Hamlet?” had assured her that he didn’t, and how the father had quoth, “Vell, all I got to say iss dot Ikey iss a truthful boy, and if he says he didn’t, he didn’t!” Then to look at printed chiffons, and chose a black one with a white flower, very smart, so home to flip a coin whether I should have it made up for night or day wear, and it turned up for the latter, which means that I shall probably have an evening gown out of it. Dinner very betimes, go- ing afterwards to “Siegfried,” which does contain the only line in opera at which mirth is apparently permis- sible, namely, the hero's “Er ist kein Mann!” as he undoes Brunhilde’s size forty-six armor, for I do well recall being angrily shushed by my neighbors for laughing at a com- edy scene in “Dic Meistersinger.”” So home, and read in a book called “The Dreadful Night,” a tale of such terror that I did fear to rise from bed and get the handkerchief with which I did fail to pro- vide myself upon re- tiring. day fineenough 31st to make even members of the Morgan firm long to be vagabonds, so Sam, shelving all duties, off to hire a motor car to drive me out into the (Continued on page 36) March This A Few Reasons Why I Shall Leave College BECAUSE I cannot accustom my. self to the mixture of near-beer and alcohol. Because all blind dates are built oq the general lines of a rain barrel Because my Rhet instructor assigns themes on such subjects as: What Are Your Plans for the Coming Vacation? and, What Do You Ex. pect to Derive from a College Edy- cation? Because the Moo Cow Moos failed to pledge me and the Beta Awful Al- phas did. Because one isn’t allowed enough eight-o'clock cuts. Because I can’t arouse a gladly-die- for-dear-old-Rutgers spirit. Because I consider military training rather silly. Because the father does not send enough checks. Because I can’t get used to su- penders. Because I can have a better time in Chicago. Because I flunked out. Rohault. DESIRABLE correspondence course would be how to forget the saxophone in ten easy lessons. “I think I must be the dreamer type.” “Same here, dearie. My he: in the clouds the time. comicbooks.com