Life, 1929-04-12 · page 21 of 44
Life — April 12, 1929 — page 21: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page presents a humorous diary entry by Baird Leonard, a hospitalized writer recuperating from illness. The accompanying cartoon illustrates one anecdote: a near-fatal automobile accident where the brakes barely functioned, narrowly preventing disaster. The diary satirizes institutional life—hospitals, their arbitrary rules (charging for fans and fires), and the indifference of well-meaning visitors who send flowers but ignore genuine suffering. It also gently mocks contemporary figures: President Coolidge's new magazine article receives backhanded praise, and there's a reference to "Trader Horn" (likely the 1931 adventure film/book). The humor relies on the diarist's acerbic observations about human nature—servants bickering over who should accompany him to Europe, his cynical view of casual hitchhikers, and his wry reflection that anyone publishing their work invites criticism. The cartoon's caption—thanking Heaven the brakes held—captures the narrow escape theme running through the entry.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
»Dia by Marcu 21—Awake in a Baird hospital for the first time Leonard in my life, and when I did ask the nurse who dis- turbed me what time it was and she quoth “A quarter before seven” I was at some pains not to arise and whack her, in spite of my great feebleness. But the experience did further my con- viction that the clock does go for lit- tle in jails and institutions, Another thing on which I am strongly minded is that an individual's health is thor- oughly a matter of his own concern, for, albeit his friends will send him expensive flowers and leave elaborate telephone inquiries anent his welfare, they really do not care a whit that his head has ached steadily for three weeks, a piece of news which seems more important to him than the message to Garcia, and the fact that an over-per- centage of sugar has been discovered in his blood leaves them as cold as a journalistic item on the arrest of a night club hostess. Emilie, my hand- maiden, in early to arrange my hair, and she did read aloud from a card on the door that if I required a fire Voice From upstairs: Oh, how can you stand there and lie to me? I should be charged a dollar extra a day, and that an electric fan was rated at twenty-five cents, so that I did re- quest her to come away before my heart was thoroughly broken. She did bring me, also, a copy of the maga- zine in which Mr. Coolidge has wrote his first article, and albeit my wits were not up to a proper critical standard, I 19 could not but reflect how anybody who puts pen to paper and publishes the result lays himself open to unsympa- thetic criticism, and marvel on the cynical wisdom of “O that mine enemy would write a book!” Virgie, another handmaiden joining us, did fall into a caloric discussion with Emilie as to which of them should accompany me on a trip to Europe only faintly con- templated, Emilie maintaining that her command of the French language would offset any domestic facility which Virgie could offer me, so the only way | could end the discussion was to inquire which was the better sailor. Marcu 22—Awake betimes, as who is not in a hospital, and pondering on this and that, in especial the strange wayfarers who did ask us for rides as we were motoring up from Aiken, and Sam's confidence that he would not accept an old woman on crutches for fear that she would hit him over the head with her props when she was once in the car, but ever since Mrs. Lewis's encounter with Trader Horn, I have felt that all casual imposters should not be taken too lightly. Effie Goings in to see me, and she does not (Continued on Page 38) “Well, thank Heaven the brakes held!" comicbooks.com