Life — September 6, 1928 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

Tue Fur Deater Starts a Siver Fox Far see their husbands and only know them by their voices over the loud-speaker. That a pin dropped in a broadcasting studio would make a terrible bang at the receiving end. That a good saxophonist makes more money than Toscanini. That the Rhapsody in Blue ranks with Beethoven's Seventh Symphony and tops anything by Johannes Brahms. That static is caused by spirits who are trying to communicate with us, if we could only understand them. That static is the Aurora Borealis. That static is caused by the wind. That static is caused by your neighbor's electric ice-box. That if it weren't for the radio, farmers’ wives would go crazy. That the announcers who officiate at the night club doings are always tight. That if there were another war, all radio would be abolished. That children go wild if they have to listen to children’s programs. That women go wild if they have to listen to baseball scores. That the only reason for owning a radio set is to get football games and symphony concerts. That the election of Herbert Hoover as President will be due entirely to the radio. Agnes Smith. NO, THANKS! First Prontsition Orricer: How about raiding that night club over there? Srconp P. O.: No, thanks, I’m on the water-wagon. LiFE’s Camps . for Needy Children “Listen, Mister!” You are walking down the street, You have had a bully day at the o} or at home. Which snakes oi feel = nanimous toward the whole world. Or, you've had a rotten time at the office, or at home. Which makes you a bit sympathetic toward everyone who is un. happy. wo youngsters approach. A_ lean, white-faced boy, holding by the hand a little ragged girl. They stop you. They lift their eyes to you (haunting eyes which you thank God your own children will never have). The boy speaks, and the little girl grabs your coat with a small, grimy hand. The boy: “Mister, listen, please! We've got to go back to school soon, and I don’t know how we're goin’ to manage. Honest, I don’t. You know what kind of a summer it’s been.» Mister—listen! We've been livin’ in the tenements and on fire-escapes and on hot sidewalks all the time you've been havin’ it easy. I'll tell the world, it’s a hell of a life for us kids. We haven't been to the country, Mister—not for a single day!” You glance down at the disconsolate little pair. “Mister, listen! Just a few days left, but if someone was to see it our way we could go to Lire’s Camps even now. You know—trees, grass, fresh air, grand things to cat. Katie and me... .Oh, gee!” You hesitate for a second. And the boy’s heart is in a panic lest you decide you must go home and think it over, talk it over, before making a promise. He knows what may happen. You may for- get all about him. “Mister!” he cries, and Katie gives a heartbreaking tug to your coat. “Mister— listen! Tell us now, please. Yes or no?” You can’t stand their eyes—their tragic faces. There's only one answer. You shout “YES!” You have im- (Please turn to page 34) 7 — fase “Just a Line To Say THE Famity Is Back Home Acain.” comicbooks.com EE “4 me tn ae a | ae ae ae eee ee