Life, 1928-11-30 · page 22 of 52
Life — November 30, 1928 — page 22: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
**The Main Cartoon (top):** A caricatured couple—the woman appears to be of exaggerated proportions with an elaborate hat and necklace. The man says "You remind me of me mother, lady," suggesting an insulting comparison. The satire mocks flirtation rituals and backhanded compliments at social gatherings. **"The Most Popular Girl There" (center):** This dialogue piece satirizes feminine social performance and false modesty. The woman constantly denies being popular while providing evidence she clearly is ("perfect whirl," men dancing with her). The man plays along, creating a comedy of transparent self-contradiction and performative insecurity. It mocks 1920s social conventions where women were expected to downplay their appeal and popularity. **Other Items:** Minor humor pieces including a joke about hat advertisements and election betting, and a brief anecdote about a child asking where cigarettes are during a game—mocking early 20th-century ubiquitous smoking. The page captures Jazz Age social dynamics and gender performance conventions of the period.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
“You remind me of a KEIN me mother, lady.” “The Most Popular Girl There”| He: What did ycu think of the party? Sue: I had a simply marvelous time, didn’t you? He: Yeah, I had a good time. Sue: But I've heard loads of people say they thought it was terribly sticky. He: Yeah? Sue: Yes, my dear. Heaps of girls told me they were stuck for hours—can you bear it? He: Well, there weren't many stags. Sue: Well, I had a perfect whirl. He: Well, you're always popular. Sue: Don't be ridic’lous, my dear. I'm always simply petrified when I go to a dance for fear nobody'll dance with me. He: Oh, go on. Sue: No, I really mean it. I'm simply terrified. He: Why, you always get away like a breeze. Sue: I don’t at all—you know I don’t. I mean I was stuck with you last night for ages. He: If I had my way about it I'd like to dance with you all evening, but I'm afraid you'd never want to see me again. Sue: Look out or I'll take you up on that some time. He: I wish you would. Sue: Honestly, you simply slay me. I bet you never dare to cut in on me again! He: You were the most popular girl at the party last night. Sue: Don't be ridic‘lous. You know there were heaps of girls there who are ten times more popular than I am. He: You said yourself that lots of girls thought the party was awfully sticky. Sue: I know—I simply can’t under- stand it because I mean J honestly had a perfect whirl! He: Of course—because you were the most popular girl there. Sue: I wasn’t at all—but it’s awfully sweet of you to say so. Lloyd Mayer. “Pay your election bets with a | Stetson,” says a hat advertisement, Why? | Are they making them more edible than | the other kinds? Kinship, Ltd. Yes, you have suffered, and I have sug. fered, And suffering makes men one; And I have paled at your agonies And tears have wetted my cheek. |And I have followed, in close accord, | The gamut your hurt has run; The scarlet pain and the reeling brain Of which you speak—(and speak). And I have listened, while you have babbled, With never the least abatement, Of knives that reached for your naked throat And snares that shut with a snap— And now I'm repaid with an unprovoked | And utterly asinine statement— Your tonsils nine times bigger than mine? You talk like a sap, you sap! A.M.S. THE AGE OF OLD GOLD Tue pray teacher thought the children | knew how to play Blind Man’s Buff. She blindfolded one little girl, and when the child did not move, she asked: “Why don’t you play?” , The child replied: ‘Where is the cigarette?” “Q. To whom should a note of congratula- tion on the birth of a baby he addressed? “A, To both parents,” —From ‘Questions and Answers,” New York Telegram Tuts is what we call a diplomatic reply. EstHer: What does Dorothy get now? Marie: Thirty dollars a week and lunch. comicbooks.com