Life, 1928-04-26 · page 9 of 35
Life — April 26, 1928 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a humorous domestic narrative about hiring a mechanical can opener. The author describes years of frustration with cooks leaving their employment, finally acquiring an "mechanical servant" (an automated can opener) that promises reliable service without the difficulties of human household staff. The joke turns on irony: after celebrating this solution, the mechanical device breaks down immediately, leaving his wife in tears—the can opener "has gone." He must now wait an hour for repairs. The accompanying cartoon "The Ladies at Their Wurst" (bottom left) appears to show women dining, likely satirizing food or dining habits, though specific context is unclear from the image alone. A separate poetry section titled "Refutation of Herrick" follows.
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Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
The Way of All Flesh ER a long period of years we had suffered the customary dis- comfort involved in the comings and goings of cooks. We did our best, but we couldn’t keep them. The only thing we got out of it was watching them pass in review. We tried making them members of the family, but even then thcy left, probably taking exception to our family tree. Just about the time we had accustomed ourselves to the whims of some particularly excellent specimen of the tribe, I would come home to find that my wife had been forced once more to resurrect the can opener. The cook was gone! Is it any wonder, then, when the mechanical servant was perfected and placed on the market, that we jumped at the chance of obtaining one? Ah! What a relief it was to know that at last we could be assured of continuous service, with no more balking, no more intermissions; that finally we had a jewel of a cook who knew her, or its, place and could be kept in it. No more catering to their nonsense, no more groveling, no more stra hairs—just a completely perfect service, rendered unobtru- sively and continuously, Our worries were at an end. We just gave ourselves up to a whole-hearted enjoyment of our splendid acquisition. We reveled in our absolute and entire control of the situation through the mere throwing of a switch. My wife threw the can opener away for all time. And then, one evening, as I iN ( Tue Lanes at THe Wurst Motion Picture Star: No, I positively will mot sit on the rail and cross my knees for any ship news photographer!!! entered the door, happily expectant of the excellent dinner awaiting me, I became at once conscious of the fact that all was not right. The sound of muffled sobbing from the section of our home devoted to culinary interests was my first warn- ing. I could hardly believe my ears. I couldn't think it of our mechanical genius—that she had broken down and was crying. Alarmed, I hastened thither at once, It was my wife who wept. Her shoulders shook with the stress of her sobbing and the effort required to manipulate the brand-new can opener in her hand. “What is wrong?” I queried, aghast at what I saw. “The cook—where is it?” Sadly she turned and faced me. Her lips trembled in the faintness of her reply. “The cook — has gone,” she informed me mournfully. I clutched for sup- port and, finding none, fell to the floor. “Gone!” I exclaimed in a loud whisper. “But I thought—why, damn it, that’s impos- sible! The cook we had was made to go—it can’t be gone!” “T tell you the cook has left,” she replied through her tears, as she turned to resume struggle with the can opener. “She has gone— gone! The instalment man took her an hour ago.” Marion E. Burns. Refutation of Herrick SWEET disorder in the dress Gives an effect of sloppiness: A maid who lets her shoestring dangle Is one whom I strangle: A girl whose hair is growing out Is one whom I can do without: A lass with ribbons left untied Incites my heart to homicide: For sluts I do not care a tuppenny Who will not pull their stockings up any: A maid with petticoat on view Will hear: “To hell, my love, with you!” Though girls like this are dear to Herrick, I wouldn't touch one with a derrick. N.R.J. A NEW moving picture contrap- tion photographs the human brain in action, but a daguerreo- typer would do the work in many cases. would gladly comicbooks.com