Life — January 11, 1929 — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

FLYING BONNIE My bonnie flies over the ocean, My bonnie flies over the sea, My bonnie flies over the ocean ‘And flies off the handle at me. Trere’s the Scotchman who signs all telegrams he sends his girl Xerxes. In that way he gets in two kisses without paying for them, We know a man that is so bookish that he brushes his teeth with library paste. The Man Who Writes French Composition Books Does a Bread and Butter Letter (1) Because I have stayed at your home I shall now write. (2) [ had there a pleas- ant end of the week. (3) Thank you for giving it to me. (4) I enjoyed very much your phonograph, your radio, and your beautiful children. (5) Junior said many clever things. (6) Your house is both large and comfortable. (7) I have left in the bathroom my pretty toothbrush and my safety razor. (8) Will you send them to my home? (9) I shall stop writing now because I must catch a train. (10) Remem- ber me, please, to your husband, and to your mother also. (11) I hope to make another visit with you after many years. W. W. Scott. WO) WY, “And my dear, how she does gos iho WaALvemar (reading): Skull of a Flathead Indian. Golly! Can yuh imagine? STAND BY AMoNnG promises made, without due res- ervation, In confident tones from the radio station, There is one that is fated at times to yo sour: “You will be entertained for the coming half-hour.” C.R. S. JUST AS HEAVY He: Tunney’s writing for the En- cyclopedia Brittanica. Sue: Is that anything like the Saturday Evening Post? Bactietox Girt: What do you miss most now that you're married and settled down? Wire: My husband. comicbooks.com