Life, 1928-07-19 · page 8 of 40
Life — July 19, 1928 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains satirical poetry and humor pieces typical of early 20th-century Life magazine. **"Nellie, the Beautiful Typist"** is a poem mocking working-class women, specifically typists. It presents Nellie as naive and defenseless against predatory men in the workplace ("abhorrent despoilers of poor little toilers"). The satire critiques both the exploitation of female workers and the men who pursue them. **"Hollywood Pastimes"** features dialogue between Joe and a woman, satirizing casual encounters and the film industry's social dynamics—suggesting moral laxity and transactional relationships. The cartoon of a girl with chocolates appears to be humorous rather than political, playing on childhood gluttony. The page reflects early 20th-century attitudes toward gender, class, and morality, mocking both vulnerable working women and predatory behavior through satirical commentary rather than serious reform advocacy.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
6 Nellie, the Beautiful Typist (The Romance of a Poor Working Girl) Tue cute little typist, her beauties are ripest, The charm of the farm is a-bloom on her cheek; She calls for the pity of all in the city— She’s daily the prey of the Shark and the Sheik! Abhorrent despoilers of poor little toilers Surround her and hound her until she despairs; With sneers diabolic and leers alcoholic, They sinfully grin at her innocent prayers! There's no one knows better the foes that beset her, The dangers from strangers who prof- fer a cheque; With tremulous glances she stems all ad- vances, And primly, but grimly, refuses to neque! Her spiteful employer delights to annoy her, He lamps her and vamps her with elderly glee; She takes his dictation with great per- turbation, And yells and rebels when she’s held on his knee! She's flurried by floormen and worried by doormen, The clerks where she works all are after our Nell; They tickle and tease her and wickedly squeeze her, She’s chased and embraced by the whole personnel! But just when her wooers and bustling pursuers Are due to undo her, and all seems a loss, When her future looks deucedly brutal) — The slick little hick up and marries the Boss! futile (and R. Jere Black, Jr. SURPRISE, SURPRISE! “A surprise stork shower was given to Mrs. Harry Klinger, of 419 Seventh street, Fairview, by Mrs. Helen Van Keuren, at her home, 472 Park avenue, Cliffside. “Mrs. Van Keuren, dressed in nurse's attire, presented a large basket lined in pink and blue silk, laden owith dainty gifts to Mrs, Klinger. A collation was served at midnight. The table centerpiece was a stork."* —Palisade (N. J.) Palisadian. Great Expectations; or, What to Do Be- fore the Doctor Comes. ju look dejected. Georcta Cracker: Times is terrible! Here I spent two years learning to read, and now comes these talking pictures and it ain't necessary. Hollywood Pastimes (The Run-Around) “Wny, hello, Joe. Glad to see you. I wasn’t trying to high-hat you. Don’t be silly. I just didn’t recognize you. Why, yes—I am kind of in a hurry. But walk along a little way with me Yes, Joe, A Lrme Gir. Wuo Has Eaten so Many Croocoates THAT Sue ts THICK AT THE Stomaci I'm doing great. They sure keep me up to my neck in trot Running a big studio ain't like playing marbles... What are you doing now, Joc? Not doing a thing, ch? Well, well, well—that's too bad. You been trying to get to see me for the last six months and my secretary wouldn't even send in your name? Is that so? I'll certainly have to—to speak to Miss Ginsberg about that... .1 certainly wish I had something definite to offer you, Joe. You know, a pal is a pal but— you see —we're just finishing up this year’s program and we're going to clos. down Ee a little vacation—just for seven or eight months No, I never see Larry or any of the old gang any more. The old nose is right to the grindstone, Joe. Tell you what you do: drop into my office some time—say, a couple of months after we open up again. Sure, they'll let you in. Just—just get in touch with my secretary Um, gee, I'm forty min utes late for my appointment with this mug—he wants to sell me a yacht. Well, fot to be turning in here, Joc. S'long, ‘id—glad I bumped into you. See you— in—a coupla months. S'long.” Robert Lord. Prysictan: If you don’t stop jazzing, a breakdown is inevitable. Harriett: Right you are, doctor, old dear. I can dance that, too. comicbooks.com