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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0020d39 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61435 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61435) diff --git a/old/61435-0.txt b/old/61435-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 10d58df..0000000 --- a/old/61435-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2982 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. 25, -October, 1921, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. 25, October, 1921 - America's Magazine of Wit, Humor and Filosophy - -Author: Various - -Editor: W. H. Fawcett - -Release Date: February 17, 2020 [EBook #61435] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN BILLY'S WHIZ BANG, OCT 1921 *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - -Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang, Vol. III. No. 25, October, 1921 - - - - -_Bathing Beauties_ - - -Real Photographs of the famous California Bathing Girls. Just the thing -for your den! - - Sizes 3½ × 5½ - - Positively the Best on the market. - -ASSORTMENT OF 6 for 25c or 25 for $1.00 - -Send Money Order or Stamps. Foreign money not accepted unless exchange is -included. - -_EGBERT BROTHERS_ - - Dept. W. B. 303 Buena Vista St., LOS ANGELES, CAL. - -_Wholesale agents wanted everywhere in U. S. Write for wholesale terms._ - - * * * * * - -_Subscribe Now_ - - +------------------------------- - If you like our Farmyard / Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang, - Filosophy and Foolishness, / R.R.2, Robbinsdale, Minn. - fill in this coupon. / Enclosed is money order (or - / check) for subscription commencing - $2.50 per / with .................. issue - year. / MONTH - / - / Name ............................ - / Street ........................... - / City & State ...................... - - - - - _Captain Billy’s - Whiz Bang_ - - [Illustration] - - _America’s Magazine of - Wit, Humor and - Filosophy_ - - OCTOBER, 1921 Vol. III. No. 25 - - Published Monthly - W. H. Fawcett, Rural Route No. 2 - at Robbinsdale, Minnesota - - Entered as second-class matter May 1, 1920, at the postoffice - at Robbinsdale, Minnesota, under the Act of March 3, 1879. - - Price 25 cents $2.50 per year - - Contents of this magazine are copyrighted. Republication of any - part permitted when properly credited to Capt. Billy’s Whiz - Bang. - - “We have room for but one soul loyalty and that is loyalty to - the American people.”—Theodore Roosevelt. - - Copyright 1921 - By W. H. Fawcett - - Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang employs no solicitors. Subscriptions - may be received only at authorized news stands or by direct - mail to Robbinsdale. We join in no clubbing offers, nor do we - give premiums. Two-fifty a year in advance. - - Edited by a Spanish and World War Veteran and dedicated to the - fighting forces of the United States - - - - -_Drippings From the Fawcett_ - - -Some up-country contributor sends us in a lengthy “poem” under the -alluring caption, “Ode to a Jackass.” This verse libertinage starts off -something in the following fashion: - - Oh, well do I remember yet, - How very proud I used to get - When, like a little king, I’d set— - Upon my donkey. - -There are several more verses which serve as proof that out in the -rhubarbs the molasses candy is a mocker and soda pop a raging. The only -redeeming feature in free verse is its mystery. Take this thing by Ellen -Janson in “The Measure” entitled “Shadowy—Under My Window,” for example: - - Shadowy—under my window— - Your low reed sobs - Its desert love-song to the remembering stars. - Shadowy— - All the night my breasts are lilies, - My lips are passion flowers. - -Now, there you are—a nice idea, neatly handled and mysterious. Your -guess as to what Poetess Janson is driving at is as good as mine—and -both probably are wrong. Perhaps she was talking to Fred Beauvais under -her window, or Jim Stillman. Or it may have been the alley cat—a thing -sobbing in the backyard to the remembering stars. - -And so the mystery thickens like onion jelly. - - * * * * * - -We let Gus read both these poems—the “Ode to a Jackass” and -“Shadowy—Under My Window”—and Gus called the Shadowy stuff too highbrow. -But Gus doesn’t know “highbrow” poetry when he reads it. Neither one is -regular, lollypop highbrow literature. We have before us a recent copy of -“Current Opinion” containing the following howl from the highbrow poet, -Carl Sandburg: - - My shirt is a token and a symbol - More than a lover for sun and rain, - My shirt is a signal - And a teller of souls. - - I can take off my shirt and tear it - And so make a ripping, razzly noise, - And the people will say, - “Look at him tear his shirt.” - - I can keep my shirt on; - I can sit around and sing like a little bird, - And look ’em all in the eye and never be fazed. - I can keep my shirt on. - -If we hadn’t happened across this copy of Current Opinion enroute home -from the Atlantic City tea party we would have been just as ignorant as -Gus as to what constitutes real highbrow poetry. We have known dames who -could translate the languages of their Mexican hairless puppies. We have -seen dumb-bells trying to get a prescription from an ouija board. Most -poets—even the cuckoo who wrote the “Ode to a Jackass”—are familiar with -the “voices of nature.” But unless we have been eating a wagon load of -evaporated apples smothered in bootleg without any flavor—especially -without vanilla flavor—Sandburg is shadow-boxing with nut sundaes when he -is not writing poetry. - -Sandburg is beyond all surgery. - -But that is highbrow, Gus, granting the shirt was clean, which we very -much doubt. - - * * * * * - -When Gus was back East with me where they use the sign language—sign here -and sign there—we took in a New York production and one of the comic -lyrics handed over the footlights went something like this: - - Oh, the Vamp, Vamp, Vamp, Vamp, Vamp, - She’s a nectarine, a pippin and a peach; - She’s emotional and sexual and highly intellectual - And equally effectual in each. - She’s a jolly little sport with the boys of every sort, - In the college, in the court or in the camp— - Though her years may handicap her, - Why the flapping of the Flapper - Isn’t in it with the vamping of the Vamp, Vamp, Vamp, - Of the variable, veritable vamp. - -Nothing “highbrow” about that—yet we can picture a crowd of Minneapolis -undergraduates sitting beside a big pine tree at our Breezy Point lodge -on a moonlight night. We shall let you complete the portrayal. It isn’t -poetry, just as Gus says, and it isn’t highbrow like the “Tale of the -Shirt” and the “Lily Breasts.” But, it should go ringing down in cabaret -history with “Cheer, Cheer, the Gang’s All Here”; “Shall I Get You Now or -Must I Hesitate?” and other classics of the post-prohibition age. - - * * * * * - -That thing you call a head is merely a mole placed on your shoulders to -keep your backbone from unraveling. - - * * * * * - -I was standing outside the Urban meat market in Robbinsdale the other day -when a neighbor lady, carrying her baby, walked up to me. “If you’ll hold -baby while I buy some meat I’ll treat you to a nice cool drink in the -drug store,” she said to me. - -I took the kidlets in my arms while mother did her shopping. I stood -around for at least five minutes before the kindly lady finally completed -her purchases. - -“Thank you, Captain Billy,” she said, as she took her baby from me. “I -suppose you’re ready for that drink now, aren’t you?” - -“No,” I answered. “Really, Mrs. Smith, I’m not the least bit dry today.” - - * * * * * - -We received a very interesting letter from Deacon Gifford’s son, John, -the other day. Giff Junior went out to California to become a movie hero -and at present has employment in Hollywood as a pilot in the Universal -stables. He piles it here and there as he used to do in his father’s -barn. We will give you Giff’s letter as we feel sure you will be -interested in any word from our old friend John. - - “Dear Captain Billy: I went out to visit a nice girl in Watts, - California, twenty minutes’ ride from Los Angeles, tuther night - and she had a nice little vurse which she recited to me, which - I am sending you to put in the Whiz Bang: - - _O, she shook a little shimmy,_ - _Then she shook a little knee;_ - _She shook her little shoulder_ - _As she danced away with me._ - _Handsome feller shook an eyelid,_ - _’N she shook her’s back in glee,_ - _Shook his head kinda sideways_ - _And directly she shook me._ - - “Watts is a new town, as I have said before, and the most - popular man in town is Reverund Ismus. He always is invited to - every wedding and funeral. - - “I went to a home brew party the other night, but before I got - there the party was dead and Reverund Ismus eridicated the - burial service, thusly: - - “‘Brethren and Sistern, we must now bid a fond farewell to - Deacon Jones (here someone in the audience remarked “What - farewell could be sweeter”), who now lies uninterrupted. We - must benefit by the Deacon’s calamity and teach our children to - read and write, that they may be able to discern the difference - between ‘Malt and Hops’ and ‘Rough on Rats.’ The choir will now - sing ‘Awaken Sleeping Angels’ for Brother Deacon Jones is now - entering the gates of Heaven.’ - - “We have a wonderful barber shop in town. He isn’t doing much - business now and when I stepped in for a shave the other day he - was asleep in the chair. I coughed a couple of times. He awoke, - jumped up quick, and shouted, - - “‘Next!’ - - “They also have a police force in Watts. Yesterday I saw him - arrest a fellow in an auto. The fellow wanted to know what he - was pinched for. - - “‘Fer not sticking out yer hand when turning a busy corner.’ - - “‘Well, I couldn’t very well let go of the wheel to stick out - my hand, could I?’ - - “‘Where was yer other hand?’ - - “‘Oh, I had that around the emergency.’ Whereupon the girl - sitting next to him blushed furiously. I didn’t know why unless - the cop flirted with her or something. Women are awfully funny - anyway. - - “By the way, Captain, is your present wife your first mate? - - “Your old friend, - - “John.” - - * * * * * - -Ye editor received an interesting communication the other day from our -friend A. Rouse, which we will pass on to you for your edification: - -“T’other night I passed through your summer capital, i.e., Pequot, and in -spite of the uncouth hour, climbed off the rattler to see if I could view -the illustrious Gus or the famous member of the specie bovine, Pedro. I -was disappointed, but what I started out to say was that as we approached -the aforementioned hamlet, I remarked to George, the genial and dusky -skipper of the ‘Sokluk,’ that we seemed to be making a little better -seaway for the passed few miles. - -“Yessah, ah reckon we is,” said George, “She’s sure runnin’ right smooth -jes now. Almost seem lak ol’ engineer done succeed in gettin’ her back on -the ties once mo.” - - * * * * * - -Our Latest Flivver Story - -A jitney car operated by a woman between Chico and Paradise, California, -broke down the other day. She halted a passing roadster and of the driver -inquired: - -“Do you know anything about this car?” - -“Only a lot of bum jokes,” he replied, and drove on. - - * * * * * - -The Game - - Joyride and the girls ride with you; - Stroll, and you stroll alone, - For this is the day of the damsels gay, - Who consider the stroller a drone. - - Feast, and the girls feast with you; - Fast, and you fast uncheered. - For they like to dine and drink rare wine, - And to dance when the floor is cleared. - - Flirt, and the girls flirt with you; - Don’t, and they count you slow. - For they play with you, so you must play, too - Or sit in the lonesome row. - - Love, and the girlies love you; - Wed, and she is yours for life. - For she does not play in the cabaret, - The one that you make your wife. - - * * * * * - -We will now sing that new southern ballad of the darkies, entitled, “I’se -got the razor and you’se got the throat.” - - * * * * * - -Gone Are the Dog Daze - -Squire Green, wealthy Minnesota farmer, had a pedigreed dog, Fido. He -read in the Weekly Argus where Professor Dumpey in Minneapolis could -operate on a dog and make him talk like a man for a three thousand dollar -fee. - -The squire shook himself loose from the money and delegated his son, -Bycyrus, to take the money and Fido to the miracle professor. Arriving -in the city, Bycyrus parked Fido in the hotel and started out to spend -the three thousand berries. When he sobered up, he found himself without -railroad fare home, so he and Fido started to walk. - -At the crossroads he killed Fido. - -“Where’s the dog?” the Squire asked. - -“Well,” replied Bycyrus, “It was this way: As I was walking home, Fido -looked up at me and said: ‘I wonder if your father still goes out with -the cook.’ So I killed poor Fido.” - -“Bycyrus,” earnestly inquired the Squire, “are you sure that dog is dead?” - - * * * * * - -Wow, Zowie? - -The colonel of a British regiment returned home in a very angry mood, and -when questioned by his wife as to the cause, replied: “Why, that Yankee -captain attached to us boasted in the mess today that he had kissed every -officer’s wife in the regiment but one.” - -“My word,” replied his wife, “I wonder who she can be.” - - - - -_Our Movie Gossip_ - - -Trust Hollywood to have the latest in fads, but as in lots of cases, -they are short lived. A few months ago Madam Edith Maida Lessing built -her temple in Glasswell Park, high above Hollywood, and said, “Here will -I commune with the eternal, here will I show the bungalow sweeties that -I am no piker.” So she gathered her subjects about her and taught them -that civil marriage is the bunk, ownership of land is terrible, churches, -penitentiaries are awful, divine marriage is the berries, barter and -exchange are the biscuits, free trade and religious transformation is the -hot dog. - -So divine marriage prevailed, it consisted of taking a person as your -mate in the sight of God and when tired of them give them the gate, -and daily and nightly they gamboled lightly on the lee, little elfins -scantily clad could be seen flitting hither and thither in the moonlight -and they held earthly communication in the doorways; in the early -mornings could be seen the spirit dance around the red flag of love, and -many a bungalow sweetie could be seen looking longingly toward Glasswell -Park. It got so bad that the dearies thought they were going to lose -their sweet man and they all began to squawk in accents bold. - -They yelped so loud that they were heard in Los Angeles, and straightway -two noble minions of the law set forth to quiet the rumpus. When they -arrived and asked what it was all about, they were informed this was the -temple of Helois where the disabled vets were soon to reside and where -St. Mary’s cradle was to be founded to care for all the babies that were -not otherwise cared for. Here was to be the goat farm to feed said babies -that their mothers might commune with the spirits unhampered; here was to -be the boat landing where the fishermen would land nightly after their -day’s fishing to feed the vets and the other members of the colony. Here -was everything. - -The law was not satisfied and escorted her forth to durance vile, and -accused her of lots of things she didn’t understand, but she remained -unruffled and when safely situated in the county hotel, broke forth in a -fit of poetry— - -Red Is the Color of Love - - _Because in the hope to save the world,_ - _She had questioned not nor fled,_ - _But only kept the banner unfurled,_ - _Whose only color is red._ - _For red is the color of love,_ - _And red is the holy one’s desire,_ - _And red is the place where love makes his bed,_ - _And red is the color of fire._ - _And red is the thing that we do and dare,_ - _When we snatch the fire brand_ - _And touch the flame to the devil’s lair,_ - _Who tortures its by his hand._ - _And red is the hole in the depths of the earth,_ - _We would bury the demon in_ - _Who has laughed in such fiendish and lawless mirth_ - _At the wages of lust and sin._ - -Now all is quiet at Helios; no more do they dance in the pale moonlight; -no more is the scorpion hurled forth to the bungalows, no more do the -goats bleat and disturb he who would sleep; now the sweeties have -returned to their previous love, and all is well. - - * * * * * - -The other day the little town of Manhattan on the ocean near Los Angeles -passed an ordinance setting a penalty for swimming without the sometimes -necessary bathing suit, but they claim it was not without cause, for it -got so bad that certain persons after swimming were going uptown for -lunch without taking the necessary time to cover their earthly charms. - -One night a party was held on the sands and every one disrobed and all -were enjoying the cooling air of the evening when a stranger was seen in -the offing. Everyone grabbed clothes and ran, intending to use another -part of the beach to refresh themselves. One dearie was stranded in the -dark, and as the rest of the party had her clothes, was forced to wander -about until morning, which was only a few hours away. After daylight she -set out to find some clothes. - -Later the town heads talked it over and decided that a person ought to -wear some clothing, if only to protect them from the chill night air, so -now if you go to Manhattan to swim, take something along to wear, even if -it is only an old shirt, for, quote they, if Mack Sennet can get away -with it, “we” can. - - * * * * * - -“The Four Cow Boys of the Poker Chips” - -_From “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse”_ - -By James Starr. - -This is a great, massive feature directed by Dex Bygum, formerly a -bartender in Cuba. This picture is the greatest society drama that has -ever been produced about the cow country. The story is of a man that goes -to Reno to get a divorce. Reno being a great cow town, he soon turns -to be a cowboy. While he is chasing the “steaks” around the country, a -beautiful girl comes to Reno to get a divorce or to get married, we don’t -know which. The two fall in love with each other and he rides her around -the town in a side car on a bicycle. They have great times together for a -while until he starts to playing marbles for money. This gambling scene -would make Monte Carlo turn green with envy. The girl tells the man that -if he doesn’t stop gambling, she’ll leave him forever. He goes from bad -to worse and starts to play lawn dice. She is heart-broken and leaves -the town. That night he and four cowboys start to play poker. The four -cowboys leave the dive with all of the poker chips. The man is broke and -discouraged, so he takes a writing “Tablet” and dies in a few minutes. -This is the only drama we’ve seen with a true-to-life ending. It is -without a doubt the greatest non-star picture ever produced. We don’t see -how they did it. - - * * * * * - -“High Steppin’” - -_From “Deception”_ - -By James Starr. - -This is a story of the wild parties they had during the time English -history was originated. From the looks of this picture they had a -wild and wicked time. The hero had six wives; that’s enough to make -any picture worth watching. The time is during the reign of Henry the -Flivver. Without a doubt he was a rattling good King because he found the -Ford that would go fifty miles on a bucket of oats. There’s a mystery -about the old birds doing the “toddle” in the second reel; they pull a -mean dance and if it hadn’t been for a gang of sub-titles we’d have seen -a wicked time. Old Henry as a king was a much better joker. The greatest -thing that he ever said was, “If I ever lose my Kingdom, I’ll sell shoe -strings on Broadway so I can have my near-beer.” He meant every word of -it, too. Old Henry was a real wicked hero, they usually let the villain -have the part, but to save the cost of another actor, they had old Henry -do it. The old Monarch was fond of playing crap and reading the sixteenth -century funny paper. One of his favorites in the funny paper was “Omar, -the tentmaker,” who is now still acting foolish on the American stage. -This picture is not quite as wicked as “The Queen of She Bare,” but it -will do just the same. - - * * * * * - -Doesn’t it get your nanny to have a girl say, “Now quit, Charles!” when -your name is George? - - * * * * * - -Pour la Toddle - -Oh, these professional propagandists. - -Can nothing deliver us from them? - -Our ministerial prolocutors again promulgate the purity dance. - -They barked and barked at the spaghetti shamble shimmie until Sari -Dennishawn tripped in and demonstrated the aestheticism of shoulder -shaking. - -But now the “toddle” comes—that ecstatic little eccentricity that -proselytes us all, and makes us do those ticklish little shivers that the -deans call “vicious.” - -“Vicious”—propend that! - -Is there anything more inspiring than two young people, cheeks pressed -close, galloping about in syncopated contortions to the weird moan of a -saxophone and the sliding blare of a trombone? - -Is there anything more uplifting than the sight of a beautiful young -girl with her head resting on the shoulder of a greasy-headed lizard who -“toddles” around with closed eyes? - -And the ministers would change all this. They call it “vicious.” - -Now what do you think of that? - - * * * * * - - A certain young lady named Funk, - Was tricked into buying a skunk, - She tho’t ’twas a cat, till it got on her lap, - But now she burns Japanese punk. - - * * * * * - -Crookedness never pays in the long run—Look at the corkscrew—out of a -job. - - - - -_Limber Kicks_ - - -Here’s to the Woman - - A smile for every joy, - A tear for every sorrow, - A consolation for every grief, - An excuse for every fault, - A prayer for every misfortune, - And an encouragement for every hope. - - * * * * * - -Sermonette - - Most of us love to dance, but that - Is nothing to reprove; - The ones who ought to be suppressed - Are those who dance to love. - - * * * * * - -Memories of the Past - -Sing this to the tune of “On the Rocky Road to Dublin.” - - Three cheers for the red wine and booze, - Three cheers for Ireland, and Michael Kenna too; - When grub was slim and pickings thin, - We all came to Hink’s, - To eat a lot of free lunch, - Without buying any drinks. - - * * * * * - - Mary has two silken sox, - Rolled down below her knees; - Mary once had chickenpox, - Which spoiled the scenery. - - * * * * * - -Of Course Not - - Carefully she rouges her dimpled knees, - Then adds a powdery sheen, - Do you think she does this little stunt, - If she thinks they won’t be seen? - - * * * * * - -Where Silence Was Golden - -Three gentlemen were seated in a street car. One of them, who stuttered -badly, turned to the man nearest him and said: “W-w-w-would y-y-you -p-p-p-please t-t-t-tell m-me w-what t-t-time it is?” Receiving no reply -he thought he had addressed a foreigner and soon left the car. - -The third gentleman turned to the one that had been asked for the time -of day and said: “Why didn’t you tell that poor fellow the time? I never -thought that anyone could be so uncivil.” - -The one who had been asked for the time turned and said: “D-d-d-do -y-y-y-you t-t-think I-I-I-I w-w-wanted t-t-to ge-ge-get my h-h-head -ku-ku-knocked off?” - - * * * * * - -Does It Pay to Forget? - -An Irishman and a German went out to the back yard to settle an argument -with their fists. Just before the fight started they agreed that when -either of them had enough he would say “Sufficient.” Then they went at it. - -The Irishman soon knocked the Fritzie off his feet. Heinie got up, -shook his head and, catching the Irishman off his guard, hit him for -a goal. Pat came back fast and furious, and so the battle waged fast -and faster—when finally the German, about ready to drop from sheer -exhaustion, cried out—“Sufficient.” - -Pat shook hands with him and said: “I’ve been trying to think of that -word for the last ten minutes.” - - - - -_“A Fool’s Paradise”_ - -BY REV. “GOLIGHTLY” MORRILL - -Pastor of People’s Church, Minneapolis, Minn. - - -Palm Beach is the place where the palm is held out for your money as soon -as you land. Here nothing is free save the air, looks and morals of the -visitors. On the beach color, costume, commotion, low necks, high skirts, -bare legs, wicked winks and studied poses kindle the onlooker’s thoughts -into a flame that Neptune cannot put out. This is the place for high -jinks that would shame the half-naked savages of the South Seas and outdo -the love-antics of the nymphs and gods in old mythology. - -Dinner is the day’s event at the Poinciana Hotel. ’Tis a thrilling -sight to see an army of waiters “charge” through miles of dinner table -trenches, while the guests, armed with sabre knives and bayonet forks, -fight to get food. After the attack the survivors sit around in the -lobby, stand or march about the miles of halls and foyers, shooting -glances at each other and attempting to make “conquests.” Despite the -heat of the room, there were many chilling glances and cold shoulders if -you were not one of the “regulars.” Giddy boys and girls, thoroughbred -sports of men and women, were all there to see and be seen, to show all -they dared, to flaunt their gold and diamonds and exhibit everything -they could on their outside which did but advertise the naked poverty of -their inner mentality and morality. - -Amid all this glare, gold and giddiness, I watched an old woman, who was -out of the society race, but painfully anxious to be noticed. This slave -of fashion with rope of pearls around her neck, bosom bound round with -chains of gold, and handcuffed with bracelets, leaned back in her chair. -When she saw me look at her she raised the lace on her breast that I -might see her hidden diamonds, then rested her withered arms for me to -admire her bracelets, moved her bony, be-diamonded fingers, heaved her -upholstered bosom and writhed her wrinkled, snaky neck. - -Ye Gods, what a sight! This last leaf on Life’s tree—this winter of -discontent amid these tropical surroundings—this dying spark in life’s -conflagration of passion—this woman of three score years making this -unholy show of herself, when she ought to be in bed or with a Bible on -her knees preparing to meet her God. This after-dinner sideshow was a -fulsome fiesta of Fashion, a vicious Vanity Fair. - -The “Beach Club” is the Monte Carlo of the U. S. A. To gain admission -you must be a member, or be vouched for by a member in good standing. I -met a member who offered to take me in and show me around. I had seen -the real Monte Carlo abroad and was told this was like it with its games -and sports. I did manage to get by the Cerberus at the door, but was -then politely stopped by a smiling, monkey flunkey with an expression -of “Thus far shalt thou go and go further.” He informed me I couldn’t -enter without being in evening dress. Since I was like the man in the -Scripture, without the wedding garment, I was cast out. Nevertheless, at -the door I saw two old satyrs taking a chance with two powdered, painted -dames, who in life’s game had lost everything worth having. One of the -girls was tipsy. They made some fly remarks and were welcomed in. - -This “Beach” Club is a place of financial and moral wrecks. It is openly -run in defiance of the Florida state law against gambling. There is not -a law of man or God that it does not break, except the one that unless -you wear a tuxedo or Prince Albert you cannot enter. Here hearts, heads -and bank accounts are broken. Fabulous amounts exchange hands among -the players. If you are just a looker-on you pay for the privilege—a -dollar for a glass of water or ten dollars a plate for a light luncheon. -Question: Why does the government pinch the little gamblers and permit -this “White House” to be a black palace of ruin and despair? - -There is some excuse for the routine of an insane asylum but none for -the silly Palm Beach daily program. Here it is: Yawns, idleness, ennui -and indigestion; dressing for beach and undressing for dinner; sun-tan -of the “Browning Club” and tonic baths; whisking around in an invalid -wheel chair in company of dudes and pug-dogs; driveling talk of clothes -and looks; drinking pink tea or cocktails; reading the latest trash; -spooning, dancing, flirting, golfing, yachting, sporting, and parading -high-priced dogs, cats and monkeys whose mentality and morals are often -higher than their owners’. - -Even Mother Nature here is togged out in society form, laced and -corseted. Trees and flowers are trimmed out of all picturesqueness; -natural curves give way to geometrical squares; lawns are imprisoned -in concrete curbs; the air is perfumed with the balmy fragrance of -cigarettes and cigars; there in no rest found beneath palms, fruit -trees or among plants and flowers on account of the stinging swarms of -society gnats. Florid Florida folders describe Palm Beach as “paradise,” -but the attractions to me were outside of the garden. Everything is -over-estimated. It is very far from the luxuriance of Hawaii, the sport -of Monte Carlo, the beauty and history of Mediterranean resorts. It takes -more than a railroad and a big hotel to beat them. - -Palm Beach pauperizes and provokes. Her short season sickens and shames. -She is the painted, pampered prostitute of Florida. “Do as you damn -please” is her motto. This was no place for a minister’s son, so I -stood not upon the order of my going, but went by the first midnight -train—before I lost all my money and morals. - - * * * * * - -Froth Pulls This One - -Belle—I don’t understand why Clarice lets that common grocery boy play -around with her? - -Buoy—Neither do I, unless it’s because he delivers the goods. - - - - -_Our New York Gossip_ - - -Heaven forbid that I should be catty about this; but I marvel at the -new medical malady introduced into the world by the great Mlle. Suzanne -Lenglen, the French tennis star. - -It is a peculiar kind of bronchial cough that only comes on when you -are getting licked. The peculiarity of the disease that the paroxysm of -coughing take place every time one loses a point; the gaining of a point -is followed by an immediate, temporary recovery. - -Brethren and sisters, I don’t want to bring on another European war; but -we gotta have the truth about this French jane who came over here to mop -up the tennis courts with our American girls. - -The real malady from which Mlle. Lenglen was suffering was an overdose -of publicity. They tell me that, at the time of the Olympic games in -Belgium, the French star had begun to believe that the rest of the -firmament where she was not was a comparatively dull affair. - -One day, at Antwerp, she arrived at the stadium without her ticket of -admission. To the gatekeeper who held out his mit for the accustomed -cardboard, she said with freezing hauteur, “I am the great Lenglen.” I -don’t know what the gatekeeper did; I suppose he dropped dead and was -carried out by the heels; but anyhow, that is what she said. - -When she arrived in America, the little French girl did a very foolish -thing. She gave out an interview loftily pooh-poohing all the American -stars—especially Molla Bjurstedt Mallory, whom she said she had defeated -without trying. - -Now it happens that Molla is a sweet, kind-hearted, unaffected, -courageous little Norwegian girl. She was a professional masseuse when -she came to America; but disarmed the snobbery of the Newport tennis set -by her good sportsmanship. - -She read the catty remarks that Lenglen had said about her and she came -out on the tennis courts at Forest Hills looking for blood. The dander of -her Norse Viking ancestors was up. The way she lit into the French girl -filled the latter with dismay. In the face of the tornado, the “great -Lenglen” retired shivering to the back courts and straightway developed a -sensational cough. - -At the end of the first set, she threw up her hands and quit cold, -leaving the courts in tears. Molla retired from the battle in high -dignity; but as soon as the club house doors closed upon her, she was -almost smothered by the kisses and hugs of the other girl tennis players -who had gathered for the tournament. Mlle. Lenglen during her brief stay -of two days had managed to make herself thoroughly unpopular. - -It is predicted that the other French champion, Carpentier, will not be -basking in quite such a halo of hero worship when he comes back again, -next winter, to fight Tom Gibbons. - -Georges made a gallant and inspiring fight against Jack Dempsey but, -around the neighborhood, they were not quite so strong for him. - -It is certainly an awful thing to contemplate; but if the new picture -censors of New York have their way, the world is due to be a lonely void -without any one-piece bathing suit girls. - -The first thing they did on taking office recently was to throw out the -picture of some Dallas, Texas, young ladies who won the prizes for having -the best—well, y’ know—bathing suits and so on. - -Hardly had the metropolis recovered from this shock when the censors -ruthlessly stepped on Hope Hampton’s thousand dollar bathing suit which -recently gave Atlantic City a thrill. - -Of course, you understand that Hope’s bath suit was made out of seal -skin; and seal skin is so awfully expensive that she naturally couldn’t -get such an awful lot of it for a thousand dollars—and that was the kind -of suit it was. - -The censors gave the indignant Miss Hampton a funny reason for their -official “thumbs down” ruling. They said that her bath suit was against -the city ordinances of Atlantic City—and they couldn’t stand for -that—even if it was in New Jersey. - -Whereupon most of the New York papers promptly proceeded to print both of -the censor forbidden pictures, thereby giving them about a dozen times -the publication they would have had on the screen. - -It is practically a defi on the part of the Metropolitan daily papers, -who say in effect to Governor Miller, “Why don’t you try censoring us, -too?” - -And now we are on the subject of Hope Hampton, they tell me that, -although a really nice little girl, Hope has begun to feel her dignity. -Not long ago, at her picture studio two electricians were fixing an -overhead light. One of them, looking down upon the set, said, “Now we’ve -got it right. It’s right above her head.” - -Whereupon the lovely young star stared upward with a cold and terrible -stare: - -“Where do you get that stuff, ‘her’?” she demanded. “When you are talking -about me, say ‘Miss Hampton.’” - -There are alarming rumors that Hope is going onto the stage along with -the other movie stars who are headed furiously in that direction. - -On the other hand, Theda Bara, to counter-balance the exodus, is going -back to the screen again. - -Personally I quiver with excitement waiting to find out if T’eda is going -to be a vamp on the screen again. She’s a queer girl—T’eda. - -It used to be said of Oliver Goldsmith that he wrote like an angel and -talked like a fool. Just the other way with T’eda. - -Personally she is one of the most charming women I ever met. She has -brains, wit, philosophy, humor and concentration. She is a brilliant -conversationalist. I once heard her talk with a dramatist, renowned for -his brilliant conversation, and the silver-tongued genius had nothing on -her. She simply sizzled and coruscated with brilliancy. - -But when she stops talking and turns to her professional life, the brains -ooze out somewhere. The only thing worse than Theda’s pictures was -Theda’s play, put on last season. At that, she has real ability as an -actress—if she would take up sane subjects. - -Theda was married the other day to one Charles Braban, a director. - -A few days after the wedding, she was in court testifying as a witness. -They asked her for her name. She said it was Theda Bara. - -The lawyer was one of these bull-dozing gents. “I want to know your real -name,” he said with cheap sarcasm. - -The courts recently gave the lady the right to change her legal name -from Theodosia Goodman, with which she was born, to her stage name Theda -Bara; so she replied with dignity, “My real name is Theda Bara.” And -annihilated the lawyer with a look. The examination had proceeded when -she suddenly shrieked, “Oh, no. Excuse me. I forgot. I am Mrs. Charles -Braban.” - -The deeply regretted death of Caruso will be followed by a musical -revolution. - -It is an admitted fact that no good American name goes in musical -circles. If you were not born on the other side, you have to pretend -you were and apologize and take a foreign moniker; or you will not be -accepted in your own, your native land. - -The way things are now, no American singer can possibly break in without -going to Europe for a long and expensive course of study—just to get the -European stamp of approval. - -Some of the bitterest tragedies of this world have been those of American -girls who found the doors closed to them in their own country by foreign -impressarios and who struggled their way to Europe in order to work for -German or Italian permission to follow their own professions in their own -country. A good many found heart-aches, poverty and other worse tragedies -over there. - -And now coming to the point: it looks as though the logical successor of -Caruso might be a young California boy of good old American stock—Mario -Chamley. He is a regular young “he” American who talks baseball; goes to -all the fights and is “regular” from the basement up. He has a glorious -golden voice and has gone to the front in the Metropolitan more rapidly -than any other young tenor in the history of American opera. The future -seems to have boundless possibilities for him. - -Chamley is a charming young fellow to meet. Opera singing is just a -job—like any other—to him. He tells some outrageously funny stories -about life in an opera company. Among other adventures, the first time -he appeared in a grand role in the Metropolitan, he burst the waist band -that held up his pants. - -When the curtain went down and the applause began, the excited -impressario tried to drag him out in front of the curtain. - -The young tenor tried to tell him his pants were coming down, but he -couldn’t remember how to say it in Italian. The impressario thought it -was just shyness and modesty that kept him back and tried to drag him -along. Just in time, one of the other singers, explained the situation -and the Metropolitan audience lost a chance for a comic thrill. - -And now, brethren, that will be about all for today, except that -the press agent of the Ziegfield Follies has announced with heat of -excitement that the girls have formed a club to prosecute and reply to -those who say they go to rough parties and live wild lives. Cross my -heart, I have always believed that the Ziegfield girls spent all their -spare time reading dictionaries and doing tatting work and helping mother -with the dishes. So they can’t get anything on me, b’ gosh. - - * * * * * - -A Gimme For Fair - - First he said “Gimme a kiss,” - Then he said “Gimme a hug,” - Then he wanted “A lock of my hair.” - I filled these requests with glee. - Then to prove truly that he was a “gimme” - The brute, he gave me “the air.” - (’Tis tuff, sister, ’tis tuff.) - - * * * * * - -Getting the Sheckels - - Why wait until you’re old and bent? - The wise bird took ’em as he went. - - * * * * * - -Over in Italy they have a new drink, made out of prunes. They call it -Prunell. That’s nothing. Over here they have a new drink made out of -raisins. They call it Raisenell. - - * * * * * - -Stranger (winking): Can you direct me to a good drug store? - -Villager: You’re talking to one right now. - - * * * * * - - The ocean wearily exclaimed, - “Incessantly I go; - I wonder that I don’t get corns - Upon my undertow.” - - * * * * * - -The first Tommy was ruddy of complexion, with a huge growth of beard of -the hue known as auburn. - -The second was smooth shaven. Said the latter: “I useter have a beard -like that till I saw myself in the glass. Then I cut it off.” - -But the bearded man was not dismayed. - -“Much better ’ave left it on, mate,” he returned gently. “I useter have a -face like yours till I saw it in the glass. Then I growed this beard.” - - * * * * * - -How Do They Get That Way? - -Mother—Come, Bobbie, don’t be a little savage—kiss the lady. - -Bobbie—No, she’s a naughty lady. If I kiss her she may give me a slap -just like she did Papa. - - * * * * * - -That’s Righto! - -The man who has the love and confidence of a good woman, and whom the -children run to meet when he is coming home from his work at night, may -no be rated as a millionaire, by Bad Street and Done, but High-Gate Pete -has him pretty well lined up in the Babe Ruth class! - - * * * * * - -George, my boy, when a girl really loves you she’ll wade through -hell for you unprotected and with her hair unleashed and streaming -defiantly behind her as Love’s Unconquerable Flag. You’re the whole -works to her—from the engineer to the president, and the directors and -stockholders heaved in for good measure. All other men, compared to you, -are only accidents or bellhops. - - * * * * * - -The Modern Way - -A jug o’ pumpernickel, a hunk o’ buttermilk and a case of near-beer, a -pinch o’ limburger and a bouquet of green onions, a ukelele, an electric -fan and a fly swatter, a porch hammock, the Whiz Bang, a package of -cigarettes, a few jazz records and a chicken and you couldn’t wish -Harding’s job on me! - - * * * * * - -As the old Hebrew walked across the golf links, a ball bounced off his -head with considerable force. He turned angrily upon the golfer. “Say,” -he yelled, “You want to kill me?” “I sue you for fife tousand dollars.” - -“Didn’t you hear me? I said ‘Fore.’” - -“All right,” Ikey replied, “I’ll take it.” - - * * * * * - -She hangs out in our alley, but oh! what she hangs out. - - * * * * * - -Good Night, Shirt - -“See here, I will not let you go out in a frock like that.” - -“Don’t be an ass, Jack. I’m not going out—I’m going to bed.” - - - - -_Whiz Bang Editorials_ - -_“The Bull is Mightier Than the Bullet.”_ - - -Making It Perfectly Clear - -Although tradition holds the devil was masculine, there is at least one -person in the world who would dispute tradition and stamp the evil one a -woman. You may not agree with him, but then again you may, so here’s the -poem: - - As the story is told, in the ages of old, - The devil, a spirit, was free, - To wander at will, mid the good and the ill, - So the devil a roaming went he. - In a garden he met an old man and his pet, - And straightway enamored was he - With Eve, young and cute, so he gave her some fruit, - For the devil a serpent could be. - - Then she put on a skirt and made Adam a shirt— - A cunning young vixen was she— - Concealing her charms, yet displaying her arms, - Till the devil he chuckled in glee. - For he saw at a glance that his charms would enhance - If only a female were he; - So, donning her clothes, through creation he goes, - And the devil a woman is she! - - * * * * * - - “_Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber,_ - _Holy angels guard thy bed,_” - -were the soft sweet words I heard as I passed by a little cottage home. -Glancing in the open doorway, I saw a young mother rocking her baby to -sleep. It recalled the voice of my mother who sings to me across the -years of babyhood, youth and manhood. - -In memory’s light I see the old cradle. It was a homely thing. The sides -sloped, it was just wide enough for a baby’s arms to reach across, high -enough for the little sister to look over, and the brother to learn to -walk by. It was shaped like a kind of Noah’s Ark, but in it we children -rocked and rode safely over all the storms of early years. - -It had a wooden canopy at the head. As we looked up, it must have seemed -like the edge of the world, or a dark background on which to paint awful -childish fancies. Sometimes a loud man or an ugly woman looked over it -into our faces, spoke, and we were frightened and cried, but mother came -and smiled the tears away. - -The rockers were curved and turned over at the end, and were worn smooth -and gray. Weary with work, mother sat by our side, placed her tired foot -on the rocker, and to the time beat of a loving heart, rocked us to sleep -as she knitted, sewed, mended, thought or prayed. - -For many years the old cradle was going most of the time. Again and again -a big baby was taken out of the cradle and a small one put in. She sang -as only the mother can, whose child is born of pain and baptized with -tears. - -It was a lullaby sweet and low, like hum of bees in summertime; a song -in a nursery, and not in a concert hall; a song not for the many but for -just one pair of little ears which heard and loved and understood. It was -rock, and sing, for nap by day and long sleep by night; rock and sing -when well and glad or sick and sad. One day the cradle was stilled, the -little brother, Gordon, was sound asleep, his long lashes cast shadows -on the upturned cheek, and the little fingers had changed a red rose for -a white lily. His cradle had rocked him nearer to the tomb for “birth is -nothing but our death begun.” - -Dear cradle of childhood, that rested so many tired bodies and soothed -so many hearts. Today the old cradle is in the dark garret and the tired -mother rests in the dark grave. The hands that laid the pillow and spread -the cover have stopped their work; the foot that rocked it has finished -its journey; the face that hovered above it is gone and the song she sang -is silent. - -Baby boys and girls are men and women now, but they can never forget the -old cradle. How often when body, mind and heart ache we toss and cry -during the long night hours, and wish that mother could hug, kiss and put -us in the old cradle again and rock and sing us to sleep. - - * * * * * - -We note with amusement that certain of the sanctimonious sect still are -passing “resolutions” about the Dempsey-Carpentier fistic embroglio, -deploring the same as a “disgrace to our civilization.” These are the -same “birds” who would have us scrap our navy and reduce the army to a -squad of boy scouts with Easter lilies in their hands. - -A “prize fight” is no more brutal than any other manifestation of power; -no more “disgraceful” in what we call civilization than any other -application of force. Force rules the universe; nothing can resist it. It -would take physical force to maintain any law against prize fighting just -as it takes physical force to keep the bathing beauties from discarding -their two-ounce outfits as too burdensome to wear. - -Prize fighting is a “disgrace to civilization” only because it is -mercenary, venal, sordid; yet we loan our money on mortgages and sell -our goods at a profit with never a thought of disagreeable civilization. -The fighter sells his ability to clout another prize fighter on the chin -before the other bambino of the bulging biceps bangs him on his own -proboscis. - -The power of the state is behind all human law and activity—the threat -of physical enforcement keeps Pedro, Jr., out of Neighbor Jones’ alfalfa -patch. Society is protected by force and sometimes with arms. Our -civilization is merely armed resistance to “barbarism” and the brutality -is always under the thin pretense of “culture” and “refinement.” - -We have no desire to see America a nation of male toe dancers. Let there -be “prize fighting” if it is to help save the country from the bigotry of -the organized minority. If we don’t look out we’ll soon be as unprotected -as a toke point oyster on the half shell—and it will be the folk who are -raving about prize fighting that will do it. - - * * * * * - -My hip is often my castle. - - * * * * * - -Ikey’s New Bank - -Ikey was talking to his Yiddish merchant friend in the latter’s store -when the dealer’s young son toddled in and said, “Papa, give me some -money.” The father reached in his pocket and handed the boy a quarter. -His friend appeared rather shocked at the show of liberality. “Why, how -much spending money do you give that kid every week?” he asked. Levy -replied, “Only three quarters.” - -“Don’t you think you’re too extravagant with a child?” - -“Oh, no,” answered Levy, “I showed him how to put the quarters in the gas -meter and he thinks it’s a bank.” - - * * * * * - -Report From London - -They were holding an inquest upon poor Sandy McHarris, whose body had -been taken from the Thames. Eleven of the jury were for returning a -verdict of suicide, but the twelfth, a brither Scot demurred. - -“Hoo could it be suicide?” he asked. “Ah’m for a vairdict o’ ‘Accidental -death,’ maisel. Ye’ll notice that the puir laddie had a bottle of whisky -on him, and it was nearly full.” - -Verdict in accordance with the evidence. - - * * * * * - -“Say, Gus,” asked a neighbor, “I heard that the foreman has had a fever. -How’s his temperature today?” Our hired man scratched his head and -decided not to commit himself. “Taint for me to say,” he replied. “He -died last night.” - - - - -_Smokehouse Poetry_ - - -_In the November issue Smokehouse Poetry will bring back to memory that -Civil War classic, “Your Letter, Lady, Came Too Late.” This beautiful -and touching poem was written by an officer of the Confederate Army to -the most beautiful and brilliant belle of Savannah, the fiancee of the -officer’s companion in prison. The woman had written a cold, heartless -letter, but her fiance had died before the letter was received and the -poem was in answer to it._ - - _Tonight your home may shine with lights,_ - _And ring with merry songs,_ - _And you be smiling as though your soul_ - _Had done no deathly wrong._ - _Your hands so fair, none would think_ - _Had penned these words of pain,_ - _Your skin so white, would God, your heart,_ - _Were half so free from stain._ - -_In addition to this noted classic, Whiz Bang will reproduce “Down In the -Lehigh Valley,” which is well known by name among Smokehouse fans. And, -in parting, folks, don’t forget that the Winter Annual will contain the -greatest assortment of Smokehouse poetry ever put into print. Send your -dollar in before you are too late._ - - * * * * * - -The Prisoner’s Prayer - -_This poem was written by Arthur Winter on the wall of the Federal Prison -at McNeil Island, Washington, in September, 1909, and later memorized -by another prisoner and forwarded to the Whiz Bang upon his release. We -offer it to you for what you think it is worth._ - - Our prayer has gone up through the ages - To a God whom they say gave us souls; - But the fear of anger still rages, - The thunder of punishment rolls. - - We are sheep that are driven to slaughter; - We are dogs that are whelped in the street; - We are useless as poisonous water; - We are only for punishment meet. - - So hear ye the prayers from the prison, - Where fever and famine are rife; - Where never one soul has arisen, - Where myriads go down in the strife. - - Where the black wing of death scarcely hovers, - Lest its jesters should make him unclean; - And the soft fleecy clouds hurry over, - To shut out God’s sun from the scene. - - Where the light of God’s orb would be stricken, - With shame as it passed in the sky, - To look in the cells where we sicken, - To fall in the sod where we die. - - If thou, God, omnipotent being, - Can pierce the prison’s pale gloom; - And growest not sick of the seeing, - This charnel, this foul-reeking tomb? - - If Thy hand stretch not forth in its anger, - To smite this damn den of despair, - Whose evil is rampant, and languor - Is lord of the poisonous lair. - - Then God, take Ye back your creation, - And plunge it in infinite fire, - Your wrath is eternal damnation, - But man’s is more lasting dire. - - * * * * * - -The Sunflower Kid - -By Koffdrop DeHaven. - - A few years back, in my palmy days, when the boxing game was grand, - I tipped the scales at a hundred and ten; had a punch in either hand; - But I never was a top notch, the reason for which I’ll tell, - I was learning a trade in a boiler shop; I worked, and worked like - everything; - I was down at the gym three times a week, tore off six rounds each - night, - ’Till I found myself in tiptop shape and ready for the fight. - I was matched to box “The Sunflower Kid,” the colored bantam champ; - I knew he was good so I trained down fine, and stuck to my training - camp. - For I never drank nor smoked then, boys, I prided my health and - strength, - Could box like Gibbons and hit like Jack, had a good left jab for its - length. - - The fight with the “chocolate drop” was at the Chickatawbut club; - Although I was white I was in the dark for they took me for a dub. - We entered the ring and a whoop went up, we both shared the applause, - They liked us both and “The Kid” was a price and we knew each other’s - flaws. - For we went to school together, “The Sunflower Kid” and me, - And we knew each other’s tactics like the saying A to Z. - The bell rang; we came to the front and neither of us smiled, - We were feinting and “feeling each other out,” and one of my swings - went wild; - No damage was done in the opening round, except for a few left hooks, - I was sure I had his number then and proceeded to mar his looks. - - The eighth opened up, I was still very fresh, getting stronger all the - while, - I ducked “The Kid’s” right swing to the jaw and met him with a smile, - Yes, a smile and also a right hand smash to the softest part of the - jaw, - And “The Kid” went down from the force of the blow and laid out on - the straw. - The referee counted ten and then the “Kid” didn’t move a bit, - I knelt beside him, got hold of his head, I knew he was hard hit. - A doctor jumped in and felt his pulse, put water on his head, - A minute later he tested his heart and announced the “Kid” was dead. - From that time on, I’m sorry to say, my life began to fail - In health and strength and happiness for I served ten years in jail. - - And now I am fighting Barleycorn and my hair is turning gray, - And I’ll beget this tough old gamester until my judgment day. - - * * * * * - -Not Me - - When a pretty Fairy gets on a car, - And her dress comes kinder high, - The goodly man will steal a glance, - Even as you and I. - - But when he’s with a real nice girl, - To look, he will not try, - He is a regular “model man” - Even as you and I. - - * * * * * - -Evolution - -_Jazzed a trifle—Apologies to Langdon Smith_ - -By Neil McConlogue. - - When you were part of an elephant’s tusk - In the Palezoic time, - And I rode round in a walrus mouth - ’Mid the piscatorial slime, - Or skittered with many a caudal flip - Thru the depths of a salmon fen— - Our hearts were rife with that dentine life, - But—I wasn’t with you then. - - That was before the colored man - Invented the game called Crap; - Before they cubed and spotted our sides, - And tossed us toward Fortune’s Lap. - But the world turned on in the lathe of time; - The hot sands heaved amain; - And our faces were polished with emery wheel— - Then between us they made a game. - - At first they called us a “game of dice.” - We were drab as a dead man’s hand: - We lolled at ease ’neath the dripping trees, - Or trailed thru the mud and sand. - Sextette-sided, with corners round, - Writing a language dumb; - While fingers snapped and cash exchanged - On bets that we wouldn’t “come.” - - Later they labeled us “African Golf.” - And they gave us a spin once more. - Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold - Of the Terra Firma shore. - The aeons came, and the aeons fled, - But the hand that held us fast, - Was sure to hold us a bit too long, - We tried hard, but—couldn’t “pass.” - - Then light and swift thru the jungle trees - Swung the white men in their flights; - And they heard the darkies plead “Come little Joe”! - In the hush of policeless nights. - And, Oh! What improvement the white man made! - For us there were no bounds! - We were riven away by a newer day, - And no longer rolled on the ground. - - Thus point by point, and “pass” by “pass,” - Onward thru cycles strange, - We “sevened,” “elevened,” “nined,” and “fived,” - And followed the chain of change; - ’Till there came a time in Gambledom - ’Midst many a weal and woe— - They changed the name of this plucky game - To “Bounding Domino.” - - Long were the “rolls” on the table-top. - When the game would once begin; - Longer the howls of the “folks-of-chance” - When “hard-luck” came trooping in. - O’er gold, and silver, and paper notes, - They’d fight, and claw, and tear; - And cheek by jowl—with words quite foul - They’d soil the clothes they’d wear. - - We were discovered so long ago - In a time that no man knows; - Yet here tonight, in the mellow light, - Near the race-track at Pamlico, - Our eyes are dotted with half-carat stones - That shine like the Devon Springs; - And cute Flappers display us in public - Quite as proudly as diamond rings. - - It makes no difference if we are rolled - For a dollar, five, or ten. - Our love is cold, our game is old, - And the “sucker” our kith and kin. - Tho cities have sprung above the graves - Where the crook-boned-men made war, - Let us drink anew to the time when you - Found the hardest point was “Four.” - -Moral: - -REMEMBER, He who operates a barber-shop is not barbaric; He that studies -the lunar system is not a lunatic; He who exists on a stew is not always -a student; He who thinks that One Broadway makes New York has “muchly” to -learn; And—He that caresseth the Uneasy Ivories is hastily disconnected -from his dough. - -Never Shoot Crap! - -Never! Remember That! - -TOTAL MORAL: Play Poker Instead! - - * * * * * - - Is it you I love dear? - I can scarcely tell. - When you smile your eyes, dear, - Make me think of Nell. - When you’re sad, your mouth, dear, - Makes me think of Sue, - But, dear, when I kiss you, - I am sure it’s you. - - * * * * * - -Oh! You City Slickers - -By Gordon Campbell. - - ’Twas down in the Lehigh Valley - That me and my pal, Lou, - Was workin’ in a hash house, - An’ a pretty good one too. - - It was there that I met Gonzola; - She was the village belle, - Now I was only a waiter, - But I loved that gal like everything. - - Then along come a city feller, - A slick haired son of the idle, - An’ stole my darling little Lou - To slip on the marriage bridle. - - So fill up the glasses, stranger, - An’ I’ll be on my way; - I’ll get the guy that stole my gal, - If it takes till the judgment day. - - * * * * * - -Our Paris Letter - -A Jack Johnson burst over the shell hole into which Pat and Mike had -crawled. “Oi’ve been shot in the foot,” said Pat. Mike immediately placed -Pat on his shoulder and started for the hospital. On his way there -another shell took off Pat’s head. Arriving at the first aid station, the -sentry hailed Mike. - -“No use bringing any dead men in here,” he said. “That fellow’s head has -been shot off.” - -“Why, the son-of-a-gun,” exclaimed Mike, “he told me it was his foot.” - - * * * * * - -Oh, Pickle My Bones - -Pat—“Well, Mike, I just saw a doctor about my loss of memory.” - -Mike—“What did he do?” - -Pat—“He made me pay in advance.” - - - - -_Questions and Answers_ - - -=_Dear Breezy Bill_=—“What’s the tallest tree you ever have seen?”—=_Ella -Mental._= - -Up at Pequot we have a tree that is so big it takes two men to look at -it; one man looks up at it as far as he can and the other man begins -where the first left off. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—I often have heard that there are lots of cows -that do not give milk during the summer. Is this true?—=_O. Shoot._= - -Yes, in a way, but the next time anyone says such things you just tell -them it’s “bull.” - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—I am a girl fourteen years old and have a dog -named Toddles. Should I let a boy of fifteen hug me?—=_Dot._= - -No, go in the house, and take the dog in, too. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—I met a guy at a dance, he kissed me during the -moonlight waltz. What shall I do?—=_Helen._= - -Lay off the moonlight waltzes. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—Could you tell me when Cuba was discovered?—=_Hi -Drant._= - -July 1, 1919. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—I am a young man only seventeen years old. -My mother says I shouldn’t play with any rough girls. What shall I -do?—=_Percy._= - -Do as your mother tells you, you little rascal. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—I am a boy eighteen years old and am in love -with a bootlegger’s daughter. How can I tell her that I love her—=_Al. -Hambra._= - -Send me her address. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—What are the secrets of success?—=_Harold -Lloydette._= - -“Push,” said the button; “Take Pains,” said the window; “Never be led,” -said the pencil; “Be up to date,” said the calendar; “Always keep cool,” -said the ice; “Never lose your head,” said the hammer; “Make light of -everything,” said the fire; “Find a good thing and stick to it,” said the -glue. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Old Skip_=—What are goofus feathers?—=_U. N. Omeal._= - -The fuzz on a peach. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Admiral_=—What is the easiest way to catch a whiffempoof?—=_A. -Fisher._= - -Throw a plug of tobacco in the water and hit him on the head with a club -when he comes up to spit. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Bill_=—Why is it that flies can’t see in the winter -time?—=_I. C. Fairlywell._= - -I suppose it is because they leave their specs behind in the summer time. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Skipper_=—Can you dig me up a girl if I come to Robbinsdale to -visit you?—=_Geehell._= - -Sure, but what’s the matter with me getting you a live one? - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Skipper_=—What is funnier than a one-arm man trying to wind his -wrist watch?—=_Horace._= - -A glass eye at a keyhole. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Skip_=—How is hash made?—=_Hi Water Shuz._= - -It isn’t made. It accumulates. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Breezy Bill_=—What’s your idea of the height of optimism?—=_Peter -Outt._= - -Changing your socks from one foot to the other so that the toes will not -fit the holes. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Captain Billy_=—Do you think that if I hired a pretty stenographer -I would take more interest in my business?—=_J. G. P._= - -I don’t know whether you would take more interest in your business, but I -know your wife will. - - * * * * * - -=_Dear Skipper_=—Who was the first original profiteer?—=_C. Serpent._= - -The whale that swallowed Jonah; he grabbed all the Prophet in sight. - - * * * * * - -In case your Ford misses, look in the exhaust pipe. - - - - -_Pasture Pot Pourri_ - - -Come, Kiss the Heroine! - -Dear Editor: While coming over to America on a steamer, the mate rushed -up to me and threatened to blow up the ship if I didn’t give him a kiss. - -What did I do? - -I saved the lives of four hundred people. - - * * * * * - - Lives of ’skeeters all remind us, - While short skirts are all the go, - That to them existence must be - Just one great big burlesque show! - - * * * * * - -=_Yes, Gus, ’tis sad but only too true that in Georgia the peaches grow -on the limbs while at the beaches—but why break the monotony?_= - - * * * * * - -The hired hand, Gus, went to town the other night to a dance. When he got -back he said that “nothing stands between certain dancers and pneumonia -but a sense of loyalty to their employers.” - - * * * * * - -_Oh, Myrt, do you know Aurora Borealis? They say she was all lit up last -night._ - - * * * * * - -No, Geraldine, Sandy Hook is not a Scotchman. - - * * * * * - -I was walking down the street the other day and on the far side was a -fellow who looked familiar. “Hello, Bill,” I says. “Hello, Tom,” says he. -“My name ain’t Tom,” I says. “Well, my name ain’t Bill, either,” says -he. With that, I looks at him an’ he looks at me an’ sure enough, it was -neither of us. - - * * * * * - -Height of Speed - -_Our idea of a fast guy is one who can turn out the light and get in bed -before the room gets dark._ - - * * * * * - -Why don’t girls figure that it costs money to press trousers? - - * * * * * - -Our Book Review - -When a girl reading a novel begins to wet her lips, the hero and heroine -are about to meet. - - * * * * * - - _Girls will play fast and loose with men,_ - _We know; so what’s the use?_ - _So first we’ll hold the loose ones, then,_ - _We’ll turn the fast ones loose._ - - * * * * * - -The angels that fear to tread where fools rush in must miss a lot of fun. - - * * * * * - -=_A woman is not a heroine, Geraldine, just because she is dying for a -man._= - - * * * * * - -Ain’t It Awful, Mabel! - -Our friend Hooper writes us that last fall he was in Alaska; went out to -spend the evening with his best girl and didn’t come back for six months. -Some night, we’d say. - - * * * * * - -Height of Laziness - -A fellow who gets up at five o’clock in the morning so that he’ll have -more time to loaf. - - * * * * * - -Har, Har, Ha! - -Heard a good joke this morning. - -Is it really a good one? - -Must be. My stenographer laughed until she almost fell off my lap when I -told it to her. - - * * * * * - -A fast night makes a slow day. How well do I know it this morning. - - * * * * * - -Plug it Up - -He—My love for you is like a rushing brook. - -She—Dam it! - - * * * * * - -Oh, for a world of equal balance. Here we find some women with no -husbands atall, atall, while others have husbands and assistant husbands. - - * * * * * - -_Women are like automobiles. Some are chummy roadsters and some are -merely runabouts._ - - * * * * * - -A New Melody - -One of the latest song hits in Southern California is “And we will get a -little bungalow in Hollywood and live our own sweet way.” - - * * * * * - -_Indeed, Aloysius, you’re right—socks are the most frugal things in the -world. They wouldn’t think of dropping a scent until they’re washed. -Hoping you are the same, I am,_ - - _Antiseptically speaking,_ - - _Yours for safety first,_ - - _Bilious Billy._ - - * * * * * - -Do you need any typewriter supplies? Yes, send me two pounds of candy and -a box of chewing gum. - - * * * * * - -About the only amusement women appear to have nowadays is smoking -cigarettes, shaking the shimmy, and shooting their husbands. - - * * * * * - -=_We wonder where the pictures that used to hang in the bar rooms are -now?_= - - * * * * * - -Here It Is Again - -Don’t bother bringing in the firewood, Mother. Father will be home with a -load. - - * * * * * - -Me friend Mulligan says wan time whin two heads are not better than wan -is whin you wake up the morning after the night before. - - * * * * * - -=_Said our pet pole cat to his pretty pal: “Now, dearie, do not be so -high toned that you can’t use common sense.”_= - - * * * * * - -Talk about your nice dispositions—we have a man in our town who retires -early rather than keep the bedbugs waiting for supper. - - * * * * * - -_Has anyone heard that little ballad entitled “Who shot Nellie in the -freckle?”_ - - * * * * * - -What could be sweeter than the rib music of choir-practors. - - * * * * * - -Fair Dancer—Say, walk over your own feet! - -He—What do you think I am, a cross-country runner? - - * * * * * - -Button up your mouth, boys, you’ve ingrown heels. - - * * * * * - -Today in History - -They were married and lived snappily ever after. - - * * * * * - -_It takes a tough bird to eat currents off a live wire._ - - * * * * * - -A North Pole Ad - -(From Charlotte, N. C., Paper) - -To Sublet—Heated apartment for July and August. - - * * * * * - -“So you’ve been to Paris? How did you like the Eifel Tower?” - -“Eifel Tower? Huh, I didn’t have my eyes more than two feet off the -ground all the time I was there.” - - * * * * * - -In Our Barn Yard - - In she came; - Down she sot; - Laid a little egg, - And up she got. - - * * * * * - -“The MISERY of a CHILD—is interesting to a MOTHER! - -“The MISERY of a YOUNG MAN—is interesting to a YOUNG WOMAN! - -“The MISERY of an OLD MAN—is interesting to NOBODY!” - - * * * * * - - Roses are rare, - Violets are few, - I sure picked a lemon, - When I got you. - - * * * * * - -Joe’s a Gentleman - -“Yes,” remarked the stout lady in the private bar of the Helping Hand, -“my Joe give me a ruddy good leatherin’ larst night. You oughter see my -shoulders! They’re black and blue. But,” she added proudly,“’e never ’its -me on the face, where it’ll show. My Joe’s too much of a gentleman for -that.” - - * * * * * - -Reverting to the subject of colored babies, George Washington Jackson, -informs us that his wife presented him with one last week that weighed -only two pounds. Now he wants to know if this isn’t the first time a -colored baby was born so light. - - * * * * * - -Yes, Alfred, the ambitious girl is ambitious to make a name for herself, -but she usually ends by accepting some man’s. - - * * * * * - -Lost, Almost - -A pacifist orator in Hyde Park, London, was declaiming against war. -Seeing a returned soldier listening on the edge of the crowd, he roared -out: “See that man! He is garbed in the uniform of war. But I belong to -the army of heaven.” The “Tommy,” leisurely removing his pipe from his -mouth, dryly replied: “You’re a ’ell of a way from your barracks, then.” - - * * * * * - -The height of Sir Walter Raleighism was observed at a bathing beach last -month, when a young man carried a bathing suit clad girl from boat to -shore through six inches of water so the poor dear would not get her feet -wet. - - * * * * * - -Blessed are the orphan children, for they have no mothers to spank them. - -Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed. - - * * * * * - -All we have to do in Robbinsdale to feel the spirit of the good old days -is to eat an ear of corn and drink a pint of water. - - * * * * * - -Since the country is dry why manufacture umbrellas with crooked handles -to hang over bars? - - * * * * * - -If a woman can’t break some man’s heart she gets reckless and breaks her -own. - - * * * * * - -Wise men never borrow trouble when they can borrow money instead. - - * * * * * - - One swallow doesn’t make a summer, - But one frog can make a spring. - - * * * * * - -The other day I was riding in the street car. I had my eye on a seat, but -a woman sat on it. - - * * * * * - -A chilly reception doesn’t cool one off on a hot day. - - * * * * * - -Men fight with their fists, women with their tears. - - * * * * * - -When spinsterhood is bliss, ’tis folly to be wives. - - * * * * * - -We will now sing that touching little ballad, entitled, “Girls, don’t -put make-up on your eyes, I’ll blacken ’em for you,” by the writers of -“Naughty Nellie.” - - * * * * * - - First I gave her peaches, - Then I gave her pears - Then I gave her fifty cents - And kissed her on the stairs. - - * * * * * - -What we would like to know is what part of a woman’s anatomy are the -stairs. The author evidently received his training from the late Quenton, -who reported that a South St. Paul woman was shot in the boiler room. -Well, well, I must pull another cork now. Reminds me of the time I was -half shot in the Islands. - - * * * * * - -Her’s - -Bachelor—“Do you suffer from cold feet?” - -Newlywed—“Yes, but they aren’t mine.” - - - - -_Arthur Neale’s Page_ - - -Boarding our Interborough subway car at Columbus Circle the other day en -route for our office—or, to be more exact, the office in which we have -desk room—we espied one of the loveliest young feminine creatures it -had ever yet been our good fortune to gaze on. She would have inspired -artists to undreamed of masterpieces—she would have thrilled even a -sign-painter. Bathed in her beauty we rode on, oblivious of all else—even -our getting off stop. How we wished that we knew her! At Times Square she -arose to alight. Poor girl—she was lame. - -Still reflecting on this, we reached the office and started to put the -final—not finishing—touches to the musical composition we were then at -work on, a snappy little one-step entitled “When My Baby Smiles at Me, I -Wish She’d See a Dentist.” We had no sooner put pen to paper when one of -these wandering salesmen entered the office and planked down his bag of -wares on the desk. “Would you be interested in anything in ladies’ silk -stockings?” he said. “We used to be,” we replied. “But now we know it’s -best to be careful.” - -During that day we had to make a trip further downtown, and so used -the subway again. Seated opposite to us was a very nice girl with her -mother, and her legs were crossed—that is, the girl’s legs were. As Gus -may remember, or rather, as Gus will never forget, there is a subway -breeze wafting through these cars, and it was wafting just then. The -mother noticed it, and although she spoke sotto voice—whatever that -is—we heard her say to the girl: “Put your leg down, Rosie, der vind ist -blowin’ der dress up.” “That’s all right, ma,” said the girl, “I ain’t -deformed.” And seated directly opposite, we knew that the lady was quite -correct. - -While waiting with a friend the other evening for a Times Square traffic -jam to disentangle itself, the friend drew our attention to a taxicab -stalled at the curb just where we were standing. Or, to be precise, he -drew our attention to the contents of the cab. She was a queen if there -ever was one. Said our friend: “Shouldn’t mind being in there with that -one.” “We should,” we replied. “Already the clock says $9.60.” - - * * * * * - -All Was Not Well - -“Don’t yo’ all know it’s wrong to shoot craps?” piped the preacher as he -discovered a portion of his congregation pursuing the Goddess of Chance. - -“Yas, suh,” admitted one parishioner, languidly, “an’ bulieve me, Ah’s -payin’ fo’ mah sins.” - - * * * * * - -_A Tiresome Job_ - -(From Minneapolis Journal) - -LOOK—I must sell my shoe hospital, as I am getting tired of sitting. -6383, Journal. - - * * * * * - -“You’re a stingy old tight wad, Bill.” - -“How do you make that out, Joe?” - -“Why I heard your wife say that if you owned the Atlantic Ocean you -wouldn’t even give a clam a gargle.” - - * * * * * - -Old Time Facts - - A certain young man named McGirth, - Was born on the day of his birth, - He was married they say - On his wife’s wedding day, - And he died on his last day on earth. - - * * * * * - -Pat was passing a graveyard one day and read on a tombstone, “I still -live.” - -“Be jabbers,” said Pat, “if I was dead sure I’d own up to it.” - - * * * * * - -Photographer’s Sign - -I enlarge your babies and frame them for only $5.00. - - * * * * * - - A man I know kicked up a row - That stirred the neighbors wrath - He walked up to a lady cow - And slyly pinched her calf. - - * * * * * - -Lost or Stolen - -(From Chattanooga Times.) - -$10 REWARD. Black mare stolen. Return to W. W. Bell, Tyner, Tenn. Small -wart in ear, tail chewed off at hocks; mane lays on both sides of neck; -slightly reel-footed in two feet, one front, one hind; $25 if thief is -with horse. - - * * * * * - -Mother (to battered son)—George, how many times have I told you to stop -and count to a hundred before fighting? - -George—That’s what I did, Ma, but the other kid’s mother told him to -count only ten. - - * * * * * - -Quick, Officer, He’s Bleedin’! - -Why is a woman like an umbrella? - -Because she is made of ribs and attached to a stick. - -No, have another guess. - -Because nobody ever gets the right one. - -Wrong, swing at it again. - -Because she fades with age. - -Almost, pull another. - -Because she is a good thing to have about the house. - -Rotten. Here’s the answer: A woman is like an umbrella because she is -used to “reign.” - - * * * * * - -The Human Race - - _They sat alone in the moonlight,_ - _And she soothed his troubled brow;_ - _“Dearest, I know my life’s been fast,_ - _But I’m on my last lap now.”_ - - * * * * * - -One reason there is so much sadness in the world is that somewhere it is -always time to get up in the morning. - - * * * * * - -What is a monologue? - -A conversation between husband and wife. - - * * * * * - -The Most Regular Letter - -The most popular letter is the letter “E” for it was the beginning and -last of Eve, the beginning of Eternity, the end of Time and Space, the -beginning of every end, and the end of every Race, and will always stick -to Loraine, Marie and Florence to a finish. - -It is also the most unpopular letter for it is never in Cash, always in -Debt, everlastingly in Misery, never out of Danger, and always in RENT, -HELL, and NEAR-BEER! - - * * * * * - -They called the baby Ivy because she crawled all around the house. - - * * * * * - -Our War Drama - -While in New York City recently, a member of the Wild Cat Division, now -employed in the McAlpin Hotel, related an anecdote on Paddy O’Loughlin, -one of the division headquarter shuffers. It was after the armistice -had been signed that Paddy made a flying trip to Paris, via his trusty -flivver. Upon his return he made the following report to his buddies: - -“The war ain’t finished yet, be gorra, by a hekuva sight. The battle in -Paris, which is going on right now, is a darn sight worse than we had -with the Boche. It’s a whole lot different kind of war, but a fellow -isn’t any safer on the Grand Boulevard than he was in front of a German -machine gun nest. - -“The attack started no more than I hit Paris and it got worse every -minute until I left. You bet I was lucky to come out alive. The enemy -approached me as soon as I stepped out of my truck and opened fire. -She swooped down on me like a thirsty Irishman pounces on a glass of -suds, grabbed hold of me by the arm just like we used to nab the German -prisoners and tried to carry me off. I broke away from her, but I hadn’t -gone more than fifty feet before I met another detachment of the enemy. -There were two of them this time. Say, talk about your camouflage! The -Germans or French neither never had nothing on them. Their lips were made -up like strawberries, and their eyes—oh, la! la! - -“They tried the same game on me and tried to carry me away, but I got -away from them. When I hit the Boulevard, it was just like trying to run -through a heavy barrage. They were all over, little cute one pounders and -big heavy seventy-fives. They used the old German mass formation on me -and when I tried to push through, it was worse than climbing over barb -wire entanglements in No Man’s Land. The rate of fire got hotter every -minute. I didn’t want to do it but there were too many of them and I had -to holler ‘Kamerad.’” - -We tried to get “Paddy” to tell what happened after that, but he blushed -and said that was all. - - * * * * * - -The Horse That Wins the Race - - If you ever go to races I think you’ll agree, - In the following philosophy which oft occurred to me; - Some horses start off slowly and others make the pace, - But the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race. - It doesn’t always matter which jockey has your mount, - When they rally down the homestretch, one thing alone will count, - Luck often passes merit, and for better or for worse, - The rear horse gets his lashing and the front horse takes the purse, - When dealing cards in poker you are liable to find - That two pair seldom rank as high as three cards of a kind. - The King card is high card but it doesn’t beat the ace: - The first horse at the wire is the one that wins the race. - Just look the records over, and you’ll stay with me, I guess, - That really, for succeeding, there’s nothing like success; - The world will surely judge you by the things that you have done! - You will only get its pity for your battles nearly won. - Reputation isn’t always what it’s lauded up to be, - The shallow brooks are noisiest, down flowing to the sea, - Great genius sometimes hides itself within the common face; - Dark horses beat the favorites to many a gallant race. - Endeavor may be noble, but the world doesn’t care a pin, - For an ocean of endeavors unless they chance to win. - Finish what you’ve undertaken if you want to make a name - Success has filled the niches in the temple walls of Fame. - The most successful doctor is the one that most is paid, - The merchant who most prospers is the one who gets the trade, - The most successful lawyer is the one who wins the case, - And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race, - I often think it’s pretty hard that things should be just so, - But you have to buy your ticket if you want to see the show. - It’s the front of the procession where you always hear the band, - And the boy who gets hot peanuts is the first one at the stand. - So make your tablets ready and jot these maxims down; - It’s the peasant does the hustling and the king that wears the crown. - The man who gets the fox’s brush is the foremost in the chase, - And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race. - - * * * * * - -Dead Earnest - - I asked a young lady if she would wed, - With a smile in her bright roguish eyes, she said: - “Go ask father.” - Now she knew that I knew - That her father was dead. - And she knew that I knew - Of the life he had led. - So she knew that I knew, - What she meant when she said, - “Go ask father.” - - * * * * * - - There was a young gent from Tex - Who made a trip over to Mex, - And when he got back - Forty pints in a sack; - He sold each pint for an X. - - * * * * * - -Scented talcum is all right, but hardly a substitute for a bath. - - * * * * * - -_Ancient But True_ - - Here’s that we may swear, steal, and lie; - When we swear may it be by the hand of justice; - When we steal may it be away from bad company; - When we lie may it be in the arms of the one we love best. - - * * * * * - -U’re Right, Professorette - -A wise woman once said there are three follies of men. The first is -climbing trees to shake down the fruit, when if they would wait long -enough the fruit would fall of its own weight; the second is going to war -to kill each other, when, if they only waited, they would die naturally, -and the third, that they run after women when, if they would not do so, -women would be sure to run after them. - - * * * * * - -Before Prohibition: “See your own country first.” - -After: “Visit foreign lands and see your own country’s thirst.” - - * * * * * - -Customer—“Bring me a Typographical Error.” - -Waiter (returning from kitchen)—“Sorry, we have none.” - -Customer—“Well, here it is on the menu.” - - * * * * * - -A Sad Story - -Ikey and Pat were wounded in an engagement in the Argonne. A priest -making the rounds found them. After giving the Irishman the last rites he -then went over to Ikey and asked, “Do you believe in the Father, Son and -Holy Ghost?” - -Ikey groaned and rolled over. - -“Oi, Oi! Here I am dying and you ask me riddles.” - - - - -_Our Rural Mail Box_ - - -=_C. U. Later_=—Sunday is the strongest day. All of the rest are weak -days. - - * * * * * - -=_Sin O. Nimm_=—Sorry, I can’t place you, but your breath smells familiar. - - * * * * * - -=_Unicorn_=—No, Uni, wrinkles do not denote the age of a prune. - - * * * * * - -=_I. C. S. Student_=—You ask me what is the most advisable course in the -mining study to take up. Would suggest that you take up Kalso Mining. - - * * * * * - -=_Reggie_=—Yes, Reginald, ’tis true, only too true, that if the man in -the moon had a baby he’d have the sky rocket. - - * * * * * - -=_Doc. Brady_=—As an instant relief for sore feet would suggest that you -walk on your hands. - - * * * * * - -=_Run-Down Ikey_=—A sure way to acquire more initiative and pep is to -wave a red shirt in front of Pedro. - - * * * * * - -Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it. - - * * * * * - -Our Exchange Story - -In the days when Lord Kitchener, the invincible bachelor, was remaking -the British Indian forces, a youthful officer asked for a furlough to go -home and be married. Kitchener listened patiently, and then spoke kindly. -“Kenilworth, you’re not yet twenty-five. You’re in the midst of a piece -of work I value and which you’re doing excellently. Wait a year. By that -time you’ll have cleaned the slate and tried out your own mind. If then -you still desire to do this thing, speak to me again, and you shall have -leave; and I’ll take you back on the staff afterwards.” The year passed, -and the officer once more proffered his request. “And you really tell -me,” asked Kitchener, “that after thinking it over for twelve months you -still wish to marry?” “Yes, sir, very much indeed.” “Adjutant,” commanded -Kitchener, “Kenilworth is to have furlough to go to his own wedding. And -frankly, my boy, I scarcely thought there was so much constancy in the -masculine world.” Kenilworth about faced and marched to the door, but -there turned and said, “Thank you, sir. Only it’s not the same woman.” - - * * * * * - -It Can’t Be Done - - “Dress up,” roared the Topper, “y’ grinnin’ baboon;” - “Dress up,” bawled the Topper, “y’ half-witted loon.” - “How can I?” asked Riley, adjusting his spur. - “How can I dress up on thirty beans per?” - - * * * * * - -On the Rocks - - _Lament of the Gold Striper_ - - “God bless you, dearie, I’ll always be waiting,” - Before I got back she’d done other mating. - With a goop that stayed home without any rating, - ’Twas while I was gone that he did all his bating. - - _Sad Refrain_: - - Nothing to think about, nothing to do, - Nothing to talk about, none to talk to, - Nothing to look at, nothing is new, - Nobody to love, no one loves you. - Nothing to drink except in the sea, - No one to say, “Have one on me,” - Bootleg it? Yes, if you have the fee, - The label is there, but it’s only weak tea. - The sun never shines, nothing but rain, - Feel sore all over, nothing but pain, - No steps forward, not any gain. - Left on the rocks, and lost in the game. - - * * * * * - -“You’ve got to admit one thing,” said the man who believes prohibition -has gone into effect, “and that is since the country went dry you don’t -see so many smashed up automobiles on the country roads.” - -“Yes,” answered his friend, as he adjusted his glasses, “a fellow who -takes more than one shot of the hootch sold nowadays never gets as far as -the city limits.” - - * * * * * - - Their jests, their quips, insipid jokes, - I’ve heard till I am full; - Why can’t the men fling bullion, - Instead of flinging bull. - - * * * * * - -I’ve been swimming a lot lately and as a result am tanned a dark brown—so -dark that my wife won’t let me out of her sight for a minute around the -lakes—she’s afraid some women follower of the Stillman divorce case will -mistake me for an Indian guide. - - - - -_The Annual Is Out!_ - - -Whiz Bang’s greatest book—The Winter Annual Pedigreed Follies of -1921-22—hot off the press. Mailing will begin in a few days. To those -thousands of Captain Billy’s friends who already have sent in their one -dollar bills, checks or stamps, we extend congratulations. Yours will go -out first, in the order in which your orders were and are being received. - -PIN A DOLLAR BILL - - Or your check, money order or stamps - To the coupon on the opposite page. - -And receive our 256-page bound volume of jokes, jests, jingles, stories, -pot pourri mail bag and Smokehouse poetry. The best collection ever put -in print. - -REMEMBER, FOLK - -Last year our Annual (which was only one-fourth as large as the 1921-22 -book) was sold out on the Pacific Coast within three or four days, and -not a copy could be bought =anywhere= in the United States within ten -days. - -So hurry up! First Come will be First Served! - -Pin your dollar bill to the coupon and mail to the Whiz Bang Farm, -Robbinsdale, Minn. - -Don’t write for early back copies of our regular issues. - -We haven’t any left. - - - - -_Our Winter Annual_ - - -In addition to republication of gems of earlier issues of Captain Billy’s -Whiz Bang, the first complete Winter Annual of this great family journal -will contain a large variety of brand new jokes, jests, jingles, pot -pourri, stories, and smokehouse poetry. This book, Pedigreed Follies of -1921-22, will contain four times as much reading matter as the regular -issue of the Whiz Bang and will sell for one dollar per copy. It will be -a book which will be cherished by the readers for years to come, and will -contain the greatest collection of red-blooded poetry yet put in print. -Included in the list will be: - - Johnnie and Frankie, The Face on the Barroom Floor, The - Shooting of Dan McGrew, The Harpy, Lasca (in full), The Girl - in the Blue Velvet Band, Langdon Smith’s “Evolution,” Advice - to Men, Advice to Women, Our Own Fairy Queen, Stunning Percy - LaDue, Parody on Kipling’s “The Ladies,” Toledo Slim. - -Advance orders are now being received and will be mailed in the order in -which they are received. Tear off the attached blank and mail to us today -with your check, money order or stamps. - - * * * * * - - Whiz Bang, - Robbinsdale, Minnesota. - - Gentlemen: - - Enclosed is dollar bill, check, money order or stamps for $1.00 - for which please send me the Winter Annual of Captain Billy’s - Whiz Bang, “Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22.” - - Name.............................................. - - Address........................................... - - - - -_Everywhere!_ - - -_Whiz Bang_ is on sale at all leading hotels, news stands, 25 cents -single copies; on trains 30 cents, or may be ordered direct from the -publisher at 25 cents single copies; two-fifty a year. - -[Illustration] - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. -25, October, 1921, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN BILLY'S WHIZ BANG, OCT 1921 *** - -***** This file should be named 61435-0.txt or 61435-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/3/61435/ - -Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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No. 25, October, 1921, by Various. - </title> - - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - -<style type="text/css"> - -a { - text-decoration: none; -} - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -h1,h2,h3 { - text-align: center; - clear: both; -} - -hr { - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - clear: both; - width: 65%; - margin-left: 17.5%; - margin-right: 17.5%; -} - -.starbreak { - text-align: center; - clear: both; - margin: 1em auto; - letter-spacing: 2em; -} - -p { - margin-top: 0.5em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: 0.5em; - text-indent: 1em; -} - -p.dropcap { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -p.dropcap:first-letter { - float: left; - margin: 0.1em 0.1em 0em 0em; - font-size: 450%; -} - -.bbox { - page-break-before: always; - border: double; - padding: 0.5em; - margin: auto auto 1.5em auto; -} - -.bbox-top { - border-top: double; - border-left: double; - border-right: double; - padding: 0.5em; - margin: auto; -} - -.bold { - font-weight: bold; -} - -.bordered { - border-top: thin solid black; - border-bottom: thin solid black; - margin: auto; - width: 70%; -} - -.box { - border: 2px solid black; - padding: 0.5em; -} - -.by { - font-weight: bold; - font-size: 130%; - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - margin-bottom: 0.75em; -} - -.caption { - text-align: center; - margin-bottom: 1em; - font-size: 90%; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.center { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.coupon { - border-top: dashed black; - border-left: dashed black; - margin-left: 30%; - padding-left: 0.5em; - padding-right: 2em; -} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -.form { - width: 100%; - border-bottom: 1px dotted; -} - -.fts { - float: left; - max-width: 28%; -} - -.hanging { - padding-left: 2em; - text-indent: -2em; -} - -.larger { - font-size: 150%; -} - -.noindent { - text-indent: 0em; -} - -.pagenum { - position: absolute; - right: 4%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; -} - -.poetry-container { - text-align: center; - margin: 1em; -} - -.poetry { - display: inline-block; - text-align: left; -} - -.poetry .stanza { - margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; -} - -.poetry .verse { - text-indent: -3em; - padding-left: 3em; -} - -.poetry .indent1 { - text-indent: -2em; -} - -.poetry .indent2 { - text-indent: -1em; -} - -.poetry .indent4 { - text-indent: 1em; -} - -.right { - text-align: right; -} - -.sans { - font-family: sans-serif; - font-weight: bold; - font-size: 90%; -} - -.smaller { - font-size: 80%; -} - -.spacer { - padding-left: 5em; -} - -.u { - border-bottom: 3px solid; -} - -.w20 { - max-width: 20em; -} - -.w40 { - max-width: 40em; - margin: auto; -} - -.red { - border: double #dd3729; - page-break-before: always; - padding: 0.5em; - margin: auto auto 1.5em auto; -} - -.all-red { - color: #dd3729; -} - -@media handheld { - -img { - max-width: 100%; - width: auto; - height: auto; -} - -.poetry { - display: block; - margin-left: 1.5em; -} - -p.dropcap:first-letter { - float: none; - margin: 0; - font-size: 100%; -} -} - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. 25, -October, 1921, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. 25, October, 1921 - America's Magazine of Wit, Humor and Filosophy - -Author: Various - -Editor: W. H. Fawcett - -Release Date: February 17, 2020 [EBook #61435] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN BILLY'S WHIZ BANG, OCT 1921 *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<h1>Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang, Vol. III. No. 25, October, 1921</h1> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 430px;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="Cover image" /> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="w40"> - -<div class="bbox-top"> - -<p class="center larger"><i>Bathing Beauties</i></p> - -<p class="noindent">Real Photographs of the famous -California Bathing Girls. Just -the thing for your den!</p> - -<p class="center">Sizes 3½ × 5½</p> - -<p class="center">Positively the Best on the market.</p> - -<div class="bordered"> -<p class="center">ASSORTMENT OF 6 for 25c or 25 for $1.00</p> -</div> - -<p class="center smaller">Send Money Order or Stamps. Foreign money not accepted unless -exchange is included.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>EGBERT BROTHERS</i><br /> -Dept. W. B. 303 Buena Vista St., <span class="spacer">LOS ANGELES, CAL.</span></p> - -<p class="center smaller"><i>Wholesale agents wanted everywhere in U. S. Write for wholesale terms.</i></p> - -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> - -<p class="center larger"><i>Subscribe Now</i></p> - -<p class="fts">If you like our Farmyard -Filosophy and Foolishness, -fill in this coupon.<br /><br />$2.50 per year.</p> - -<div class="coupon"> - -<p class="right">Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang,<br /> -R.R.2, Robbinsdale, Minn.</p> - -<p class="right">Enclosed is money order<br /> -(or check) for subscription<br /> -commencing with .................. issue<br /> -<span style="padding-right: 3em;">MONTH</span></p> - -<div class="form">Name</div> -<div class="form">Street</div> -<div class="form">City & State</div> - -</div> - -</div> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" width="400" height="600" alt="Title page image" /> - -<p class="caption"><i>Captain Billy’s<br /> -Whiz Bang</i></p> - -<p class="caption"><i>America’s Magazine of<br /> -Wit, Humor and<br /> -Filosophy</i></p> - -<p class="caption">OCTOBER, 1921 <span class="spacer">Vol. III. No. 25</span></p> - -<p class="caption">Published Monthly<br /> -W. H. Fawcett, Rural Route No. 2<br /> -at Robbinsdale, Minnesota</p> - -<p class="caption">Entered as second-class matter May 1, 1920, at the postoffice at -Robbinsdale, Minnesota, under the -Act of March 3, 1879.</p> - -<p class="caption">Price 25 cents <span class="spacer">$2.50 per year</span></p> - -<p class="caption">Contents of this magazine are copyrighted. Republication of any part -permitted when properly credited to Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang.</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">“We have room for but one soul loyalty and that is -loyalty to the American people.”—Theodore Roosevelt.</p> - -<p class="center">Copyright 1921<br /> -By W. H. Fawcett</p> - -<div class="box"> - -<p>Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang employs no solicitors. -Subscriptions may be received only at authorized news -stands or by direct mail to Robbinsdale. We join in no -clubbing offers, nor do we give premiums. Two-fifty a -year in advance.</p> - -</div> - -<p class="center">Edited by a Spanish and World War Veteran and -dedicated to the fighting forces of the United States</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Drippings From the Fawcett</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Some up-country contributor sends us in a -lengthy “poem” under the alluring caption, -“Ode to a Jackass.” This verse libertinage -starts off something in the following -fashion:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh, well do I remember yet,</div> -<div class="verse">How very proud I used to get</div> -<div class="verse">When, like a little king, I’d set—</div> -<div class="verse">Upon my donkey.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>There are several more verses which serve -as proof that out in the rhubarbs the molasses -candy is a mocker and soda pop a raging. The -only redeeming feature in free verse is its mystery. -Take this thing by Ellen Janson in “The -Measure” entitled “Shadowy—Under My Window,” -for example:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Shadowy—under my window—</div> -<div class="verse">Your low reed sobs</div> -<div class="verse">Its desert love-song to the remembering stars.</div> -<div class="verse">Shadowy—</div> -<div class="verse">All the night my breasts are lilies,</div> -<div class="verse">My lips are passion flowers.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Now, there you are—a nice idea, neatly handled -and mysterious. Your guess as to what -Poetess Janson is driving at is as good as mine—and -both probably are wrong. Perhaps she -was talking to Fred Beauvais under her window, -or Jim Stillman. Or it may have been the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -alley cat—a thing sobbing in the backyard to -the remembering stars.</p> - -<p>And so the mystery thickens like onion jelly.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="dropcap">We let Gus read both these poems—the -“Ode to a Jackass” and “Shadowy—Under -My Window”—and Gus called the -Shadowy stuff too highbrow. But Gus doesn’t -know “highbrow” poetry when he reads it. -Neither one is regular, lollypop highbrow literature. -We have before us a recent copy of -“Current Opinion” containing the following -howl from the highbrow poet, Carl Sandburg:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">My shirt is a token and a symbol</div> -<div class="verse">More than a lover for sun and rain,</div> -<div class="verse">My shirt is a signal</div> -<div class="verse">And a teller of souls.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I can take off my shirt and tear it</div> -<div class="verse">And so make a ripping, razzly noise,</div> -<div class="verse">And the people will say,</div> -<div class="verse">“Look at him tear his shirt.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I can keep my shirt on;</div> -<div class="verse">I can sit around and sing like a little bird,</div> -<div class="verse">And look ’em all in the eye and never be fazed.</div> -<div class="verse">I can keep my shirt on.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>If we hadn’t happened across this copy of -Current Opinion enroute home from the Atlantic -City tea party we would have been just as -ignorant as Gus as to what constitutes real -highbrow poetry. We have known dames who -could translate the languages of their Mexican -hairless puppies. We have seen dumb-bells trying -to get a prescription from an ouija board. -Most poets—even the cuckoo who wrote the -“Ode to a Jackass”—are familiar with the -“voices of nature.” But unless we have been -eating a wagon load of evaporated apples<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -smothered in bootleg without any flavor—especially -without vanilla flavor—Sandburg is -shadow-boxing with nut sundaes when he is not -writing poetry.</p> - -<p>Sandburg is beyond all surgery.</p> - -<p>But that is highbrow, Gus, granting the shirt -was clean, which we very much doubt.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="dropcap">When Gus was back East with me where -they use the sign language—sign here -and sign there—we took in a New York -production and one of the comic lyrics handed -over the footlights went something like this:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Oh, the Vamp, Vamp, Vamp, Vamp, Vamp,</div> -<div class="verse">She’s a nectarine, a pippin and a peach;</div> -<div class="verse">She’s emotional and sexual and highly intellectual</div> -<div class="verse">And equally effectual in each.</div> -<div class="verse">She’s a jolly little sport with the boys of every sort,</div> -<div class="verse">In the college, in the court or in the camp—</div> -<div class="verse">Though her years may handicap her,</div> -<div class="verse">Why the flapping of the Flapper</div> -<div class="verse">Isn’t in it with the vamping of the Vamp, Vamp, Vamp,</div> -<div class="verse">Of the variable, veritable vamp.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Nothing “highbrow” about that—yet we can -picture a crowd of Minneapolis undergraduates -sitting beside a big pine tree at our Breezy -Point lodge on a moonlight night. We shall -let you complete the portrayal. It isn’t poetry, -just as Gus says, and it isn’t highbrow like the -“Tale of the Shirt” and the “Lily Breasts.” -But, it should go ringing down in cabaret history -with “Cheer, Cheer, the Gang’s All Here”; -“Shall I Get You Now or Must I Hesitate?” and -other classics of the post-prohibition age.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>That thing you call a head is merely a -mole placed on your shoulders to keep your -backbone from unraveling.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="dropcap">I was standing outside the Urban meat market -in Robbinsdale the other day when a -neighbor lady, carrying her baby, walked up -to me. “If you’ll hold baby while I buy some -meat I’ll treat you to a nice cool drink in the -drug store,” she said to me.</p> - -<p>I took the kidlets in my arms while mother -did her shopping. I stood around for at least -five minutes before the kindly lady finally completed -her purchases.</p> - -<p>“Thank you, Captain Billy,” she said, as she -took her baby from me. “I suppose you’re -ready for that drink now, aren’t you?”</p> - -<p>“No,” I answered. “Really, Mrs. Smith, I’m -not the least bit dry today.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="dropcap">We received a very interesting letter -from Deacon Gifford’s son, John, the -other day. Giff Junior went out to California -to become a movie hero and at present -has employment in Hollywood as a pilot in the -Universal stables. He piles it here and there -as he used to do in his father’s barn. We will -give you Giff’s letter as we feel sure you will -be interested in any word from our old friend -John.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“Dear Captain Billy: I went out to visit a -nice girl in Watts, California, twenty minutes’ -ride from Los Angeles, tuther night and she -had a nice little vurse which she recited to me, -which I am sending you to put in the Whiz -Bang:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><i>O, she shook a little shimmy,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Then she shook a little knee;</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>She shook her little shoulder</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>As she danced away with me.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Handsome feller shook an eyelid,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>’N she shook her’s back in glee,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Shook his head kinda sideways</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And directly she shook me.</i></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>“Watts is a new town, as I have said before, -and the most popular man in town is Reverund -Ismus. He always is invited to every wedding -and funeral.</p> - -<p>“I went to a home brew party the other -night, but before I got there the party was dead -and Reverund Ismus eridicated the burial -service, thusly:</p> - -<p>“‘Brethren and Sistern, we must now bid a -fond farewell to Deacon Jones (here someone -in the audience remarked “What farewell could -be sweeter”), who now lies uninterrupted. We -must benefit by the Deacon’s calamity and teach -our children to read and write, that they may -be able to discern the difference between ‘Malt -and Hops’ and ‘Rough on Rats.’ The choir -will now sing ‘Awaken Sleeping Angels’ for -Brother Deacon Jones is now entering the gates -of Heaven.’</p> - -<p>“We have a wonderful barber shop in town. -He isn’t doing much business now and when I -stepped in for a shave the other day he was -asleep in the chair. I coughed a couple of -times. He awoke, jumped up quick, and shouted,</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> - -<p>“‘Next!’</p> - -<p>“They also have a police force in Watts. -Yesterday I saw him arrest a fellow in an auto. -The fellow wanted to know what he was -pinched for.</p> - -<p>“‘Fer not sticking out yer hand when turning -a busy corner.’</p> - -<p>“‘Well, I couldn’t very well let go of the -wheel to stick out my hand, could I?’</p> - -<p>“‘Where was yer other hand?’</p> - -<p>“‘Oh, I had that around the emergency.’ -Whereupon the girl sitting next to him blushed -furiously. I didn’t know why unless the cop -flirted with her or something. Women are awfully -funny anyway.</p> - -<p>“By the way, Captain, is your present wife -your first mate?</p> - -<p class="center">“Your old friend,</p> - -<p class="right">“John.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Ye editor received an interesting communication -the other day from our friend -A. Rouse, which we will pass on to you -for your edification:</p> - -<p>“T’other night I passed through your summer -capital, i.e., Pequot, and in spite of the -uncouth hour, climbed off the rattler to see if -I could view the illustrious Gus or the famous -member of the specie bovine, Pedro. I was -disappointed, but what I started out to say was -that as we approached the aforementioned hamlet, -I remarked to George, the genial and dusky -skipper of the ‘Sokluk,’ that we seemed to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -making a little better seaway for the passed -few miles.</p> - -<p>“Yessah, ah reckon we is,” said George, -“She’s sure runnin’ right smooth jes now. Almost -seem lak ol’ engineer done succeed in gettin’ -her back on the ties once mo.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Our Latest Flivver Story</h3> - -<p>A jitney car operated by a woman between -Chico and Paradise, California, broke down -the other day. She halted a passing roadster -and of the driver inquired:</p> - -<p>“Do you know anything about this car?”</p> - -<p>“Only a lot of bum jokes,” he replied, and -drove on.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>The Game</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Joyride and the girls ride with you;</div> -<div class="verse">Stroll, and you stroll alone,</div> -<div class="verse">For this is the day of the damsels gay,</div> -<div class="verse">Who consider the stroller a drone.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Feast, and the girls feast with you;</div> -<div class="verse">Fast, and you fast uncheered.</div> -<div class="verse">For they like to dine and drink rare wine,</div> -<div class="verse">And to dance when the floor is cleared.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Flirt, and the girls flirt with you;</div> -<div class="verse">Don’t, and they count you slow.</div> -<div class="verse">For they play with you, so you must play, too</div> -<div class="verse">Or sit in the lonesome row.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Love, and the girlies love you;</div> -<div class="verse">Wed, and she is yours for life.</div> -<div class="verse">For she does not play in the cabaret,</div> -<div class="verse">The one that you make your wife.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>We will now sing that new southern ballad -of the darkies, entitled, “I’se got the razor -and you’se got the throat.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Gone Are the Dog Daze</h3> - -<p>Squire Green, wealthy Minnesota farmer, -had a pedigreed dog, Fido. He read in the -Weekly Argus where Professor Dumpey in -Minneapolis could operate on a dog and make -him talk like a man for a three thousand dollar -fee.</p> - -<p>The squire shook himself loose from the -money and delegated his son, Bycyrus, to take -the money and Fido to the miracle professor. -Arriving in the city, Bycyrus parked Fido in -the hotel and started out to spend the three -thousand berries. When he sobered up, he -found himself without railroad fare home, so -he and Fido started to walk.</p> - -<p>At the crossroads he killed Fido.</p> - -<p>“Where’s the dog?” the Squire asked.</p> - -<p>“Well,” replied Bycyrus, “It was this way: -As I was walking home, Fido looked up at me -and said: ‘I wonder if your father still goes -out with the cook.’ So I killed poor Fido.”</p> - -<p>“Bycyrus,” earnestly inquired the Squire, -“are you sure that dog is dead?”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Wow, Zowie?</h3> - -<p>The colonel of a British regiment returned -home in a very angry mood, and when questioned -by his wife as to the cause, replied: -“Why, that Yankee captain attached to us -boasted in the mess today that he had kissed -every officer’s wife in the regiment but one.”</p> - -<p>“My word,” replied his wife, “I wonder who -she can be.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Our Movie Gossip</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Trust Hollywood to have the latest in -fads, but as in lots of cases, they are -short lived. A few months ago Madam -Edith Maida Lessing built her temple in Glasswell -Park, high above Hollywood, and said, -“Here will I commune with the eternal, here -will I show the bungalow sweeties that I am no -piker.” So she gathered her subjects about her -and taught them that civil marriage is the -bunk, ownership of land is terrible, churches, -penitentiaries are awful, divine marriage is the -berries, barter and exchange are the biscuits, -free trade and religious transformation is the -hot dog.</p> - -<p>So divine marriage prevailed, it consisted -of taking a person as your mate in the sight -of God and when tired of them give them the -gate, and daily and nightly they gamboled -lightly on the lee, little elfins scantily clad -could be seen flitting hither and thither in -the moonlight and they held earthly communication -in the doorways; in the early mornings -could be seen the spirit dance around the red -flag of love, and many a bungalow sweetie -could be seen looking longingly toward Glasswell -Park. It got so bad that the dearies -thought they were going to lose their sweet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -man and they all began to squawk in accents -bold.</p> - -<p>They yelped so loud that they were heard -in Los Angeles, and straightway two noble -minions of the law set forth to quiet the rumpus. -When they arrived and asked what it was -all about, they were informed this was the temple -of Helois where the disabled vets were soon -to reside and where St. Mary’s cradle was to -be founded to care for all the babies that were -not otherwise cared for. Here was to be the -goat farm to feed said babies that their mothers -might commune with the spirits unhampered; -here was to be the boat landing where the fishermen -would land nightly after their day’s fishing -to feed the vets and the other members of -the colony. Here was everything.</p> - -<p>The law was not satisfied and escorted her -forth to durance vile, and accused her of lots -of things she didn’t understand, but she remained -unruffled and when safely situated in -the county hotel, broke forth in a fit of poetry—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center sans">Red Is the Color of Love</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><i>Because in the hope to save the world,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>She had questioned not nor fled,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>But only kept the banner unfurled,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>Whose only color is red.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>For red is the color of love,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>And red is the holy one’s desire,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And red is the place where love makes his bed,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>And red is the color of fire.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And red is the thing that we do and dare,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>When we snatch the fire brand</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And touch the flame to the devil’s lair,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>Who tortures its by his hand.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And red is the hole in the depths of the earth,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>We would bury the demon in</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Who has laughed in such fiendish and lawless mirth</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>At the wages of lust and sin.</i></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now all is quiet at Helios; no more do they -dance in the pale moonlight; no more is the -scorpion hurled forth to the bungalows, no -more do the goats bleat and disturb he who -would sleep; now the sweeties have returned -to their previous love, and all is well.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="dropcap">The other day the little town of Manhattan -on the ocean near Los Angeles passed -an ordinance setting a penalty for swimming -without the sometimes necessary bathing -suit, but they claim it was not without cause, -for it got so bad that certain persons after -swimming were going uptown for lunch without -taking the necessary time to cover their -earthly charms.</p> - -<p>One night a party was held on the sands -and every one disrobed and all were enjoying -the cooling air of the evening when a stranger -was seen in the offing. Everyone grabbed -clothes and ran, intending to use another part -of the beach to refresh themselves. One dearie -was stranded in the dark, and as the rest of -the party had her clothes, was forced to wander -about until morning, which was only a few -hours away. After daylight she set out to find -some clothes.</p> - -<p>Later the town heads talked it over and decided -that a person ought to wear some clothing, -if only to protect them from the chill -night air, so now if you go to Manhattan to -swim, take something along to wear, even if it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -is only an old shirt, for, quote they, if Mack -Sennet can get away with it, “we” can.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>“The Four Cow Boys of the Poker Chips”</h3> - -<p class="center"><i>From “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse”</i></p> - -<p class="center sans">By James Starr.</p> - -<p>This is a great, massive feature directed by -Dex Bygum, formerly a bartender in Cuba. -This picture is the greatest society drama that -has ever been produced about the cow country. -The story is of a man that goes to Reno to get -a divorce. Reno being a great cow town, he -soon turns to be a cowboy. While he is chasing -the “steaks” around the country, a beautiful -girl comes to Reno to get a divorce or to get -married, we don’t know which. The two fall in -love with each other and he rides her around -the town in a side car on a bicycle. They have -great times together for a while until he starts -to playing marbles for money. This gambling -scene would make Monte Carlo turn green with -envy. The girl tells the man that if he doesn’t -stop gambling, she’ll leave him forever. He -goes from bad to worse and starts to play -lawn dice. She is heart-broken and leaves the -town. That night he and four cowboys start -to play poker. The four cowboys leave the -dive with all of the poker chips. The man is -broke and discouraged, so he takes a writing -“Tablet” and dies in a few minutes. This is the -only drama we’ve seen with a true-to-life ending. -It is without a doubt the greatest non-star -picture ever produced. We don’t see how -they did it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>“High Steppin’”</h3> - -<p class="center"><i>From “Deception”</i></p> - -<p class="center sans">By James Starr.</p> - -<p>This is a story of the wild parties they had -during the time English history was originated. -From the looks of this picture they had -a wild and wicked time. The hero had six -wives; that’s enough to make any picture worth -watching. The time is during the reign of -Henry the Flivver. Without a doubt he was -a rattling good King because he found the Ford -that would go fifty miles on a bucket of oats. -There’s a mystery about the old birds doing -the “toddle” in the second reel; they pull a -mean dance and if it hadn’t been for a gang of -sub-titles we’d have seen a wicked time. Old -Henry as a king was a much better joker. The -greatest thing that he ever said was, “If I ever -lose my Kingdom, I’ll sell shoe strings on -Broadway so I can have my near-beer.” He -meant every word of it, too. Old Henry was -a real wicked hero, they usually let the villain -have the part, but to save the cost of another -actor, they had old Henry do it. The old Monarch -was fond of playing crap and reading the -sixteenth century funny paper. One of his -favorites in the funny paper was “Omar, the -tentmaker,” who is now still acting foolish on -the American stage. This picture is not quite -as wicked as “The Queen of She Bare,” but it -will do just the same.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Doesn’t it get your nanny to have a girl -say, “Now quit, Charles!” when your name -is George?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Pour la Toddle</h3> - -<p>Oh, these professional propagandists.</p> - -<p>Can nothing deliver us from them?</p> - -<p>Our ministerial prolocutors again promulgate -the purity dance.</p> - -<p>They barked and barked at the spaghetti -shamble shimmie until Sari Dennishawn -tripped in and demonstrated the aestheticism -of shoulder shaking.</p> - -<p>But now the “toddle” comes—that ecstatic -little eccentricity that proselytes us all, and -makes us do those ticklish little shivers that -the deans call “vicious.”</p> - -<p>“Vicious”—propend that!</p> - -<p>Is there anything more inspiring than two -young people, cheeks pressed close, galloping -about in syncopated contortions to the weird -moan of a saxophone and the sliding blare of a -trombone?</p> - -<p>Is there anything more uplifting than the -sight of a beautiful young girl with her head -resting on the shoulder of a greasy-headed -lizard who “toddles” around with closed eyes?</p> - -<p>And the ministers would change all this. -They call it “vicious.”</p> - -<p>Now what do you think of that?</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A certain young lady named Funk,</div> -<div class="verse">Was tricked into buying a skunk,</div> -<div class="verse">She tho’t ’twas a cat, till it got on her lap,</div> -<div class="verse">But now she burns Japanese punk.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Crookedness never pays in the long run—Look -at the corkscrew—out of a job.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Limber Kicks</i></h2> - -</div> - -<h3>Here’s to the Woman</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A smile for every joy,</div> -<div class="verse">A tear for every sorrow,</div> -<div class="verse">A consolation for every grief,</div> -<div class="verse">An excuse for every fault,</div> -<div class="verse">A prayer for every misfortune,</div> -<div class="verse">And an encouragement for every hope.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Sermonette</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Most of us love to dance, but that</div> -<div class="verse">Is nothing to reprove;</div> -<div class="verse">The ones who ought to be suppressed</div> -<div class="verse">Are those who dance to love.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Memories of the Past</h3> - -<p class="center">Sing this to the tune of “On the Rocky Road to -Dublin.”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Three cheers for the red wine and booze,</div> -<div class="verse">Three cheers for Ireland, and Michael Kenna too;</div> -<div class="verse">When grub was slim and pickings thin,</div> -<div class="verse">We all came to Hink’s,</div> -<div class="verse">To eat a lot of free lunch,</div> -<div class="verse">Without buying any drinks.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Mary has two silken sox,</div> -<div class="verse">Rolled down below her knees;</div> -<div class="verse">Mary once had chickenpox,</div> -<div class="verse">Which spoiled the scenery.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Of Course Not</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller sans"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Carefully she rouges her dimpled knees,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Then adds a powdery sheen,</div> -<div class="verse">Do you think she does this little stunt,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">If she thinks they won’t be seen?</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Where Silence Was Golden</h3> - -<p>Three gentlemen were seated in a street -car. One of them, who stuttered badly, turned -to the man nearest him and said: “W-w-w-would -y-y-you p-p-p-please t-t-t-tell m-me w-what -t-t-time it is?” Receiving no reply he thought -he had addressed a foreigner and soon left the -car.</p> - -<p>The third gentleman turned to the one that -had been asked for the time of day and said: -“Why didn’t you tell that poor fellow the time? -I never thought that anyone could be so uncivil.”</p> - -<p>The one who had been asked for the time -turned and said: “D-d-d-do y-y-y-you t-t-think -I-I-I-I w-w-wanted t-t-to ge-ge-get my h-h-head -ku-ku-knocked off?”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Does It Pay to Forget?</h3> - -<p>An Irishman and a German went out to the -back yard to settle an argument with their -fists. Just before the fight started they agreed -that when either of them had enough he would -say “Sufficient.” Then they went at it.</p> - -<p>The Irishman soon knocked the Fritzie off -his feet. Heinie got up, shook his head and, -catching the Irishman off his guard, hit him -for a goal. Pat came back fast and furious, -and so the battle waged fast and faster—when -finally the German, about ready to drop from -sheer exhaustion, cried out—“Sufficient.”</p> - -<p>Pat shook hands with him and said: “I’ve -been trying to think of that word for the last -ten minutes.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>“A Fool’s Paradise”</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="by">BY REV. “GOLIGHTLY” MORRILL</p> - -<p class="center">Pastor of People’s Church, Minneapolis, Minn.</p> - -<p class="dropcap">Palm Beach is the place where the palm -is held out for your money as soon as you -land. Here nothing is free save the air, -looks and morals of the visitors. On the beach -color, costume, commotion, low necks, high -skirts, bare legs, wicked winks and studied -poses kindle the onlooker’s thoughts into a -flame that Neptune cannot put out. This is -the place for high jinks that would shame the -half-naked savages of the South Seas and outdo -the love-antics of the nymphs and gods in old -mythology.</p> - -<p>Dinner is the day’s event at the Poinciana -Hotel. ’Tis a thrilling sight to see an army -of waiters “charge” through miles of dinner -table trenches, while the guests, armed with -sabre knives and bayonet forks, fight to get -food. After the attack the survivors sit around -in the lobby, stand or march about the miles of -halls and foyers, shooting glances at each other -and attempting to make “conquests.” Despite -the heat of the room, there were many chilling -glances and cold shoulders if you were not one -of the “regulars.” Giddy boys and girls, thoroughbred -sports of men and women, were all -there to see and be seen, to show all they dared,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -to flaunt their gold and diamonds and exhibit -everything they could on their outside which -did but advertise the naked poverty of their -inner mentality and morality.</p> - -<p>Amid all this glare, gold and giddiness, I -watched an old woman, who was out of the -society race, but painfully anxious to be noticed. -This slave of fashion with rope of -pearls around her neck, bosom bound round -with chains of gold, and handcuffed with bracelets, -leaned back in her chair. When she saw -me look at her she raised the lace on her breast -that I might see her hidden diamonds, then -rested her withered arms for me to admire her -bracelets, moved her bony, be-diamonded fingers, -heaved her upholstered bosom and writhed -her wrinkled, snaky neck.</p> - -<p>Ye Gods, what a sight! This last leaf on -Life’s tree—this winter of discontent amid these -tropical surroundings—this dying spark in -life’s conflagration of passion—this woman of -three score years making this unholy show of -herself, when she ought to be in bed or with a -Bible on her knees preparing to meet her God. -This after-dinner sideshow was a fulsome fiesta -of Fashion, a vicious Vanity Fair.</p> - -<p>The “Beach Club” is the Monte Carlo of the -U. S. A. To gain admission you must be a -member, or be vouched for by a member in -good standing. I met a member who offered -to take me in and show me around. I had seen -the real Monte Carlo abroad and was told this -was like it with its games and sports. I did -manage to get by the Cerberus at the door, but -was then politely stopped by a smiling, monkey<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -flunkey with an expression of “Thus far shalt -thou go and go further.” He informed me I -couldn’t enter without being in evening dress. -Since I was like the man in the Scripture, without -the wedding garment, I was cast out. Nevertheless, -at the door I saw two old satyrs taking -a chance with two powdered, painted dames, -who in life’s game had lost everything worth -having. One of the girls was tipsy. They -made some fly remarks and were welcomed in.</p> - -<p>This “Beach” Club is a place of financial -and moral wrecks. It is openly run in defiance -of the Florida state law against gambling. -There is not a law of man or God that it does -not break, except the one that unless you wear -a tuxedo or Prince Albert you cannot enter. -Here hearts, heads and bank accounts are -broken. Fabulous amounts exchange hands -among the players. If you are just a looker-on -you pay for the privilege—a dollar for a glass -of water or ten dollars a plate for a light -luncheon. Question: Why does the government -pinch the little gamblers and permit this -“White House” to be a black palace of ruin and -despair?</p> - -<p>There is some excuse for the routine of an -insane asylum but none for the silly Palm -Beach daily program. Here it is: Yawns, idleness, -ennui and indigestion; dressing for beach -and undressing for dinner; sun-tan of the -“Browning Club” and tonic baths; whisking -around in an invalid wheel chair in company of -dudes and pug-dogs; driveling talk of clothes -and looks; drinking pink tea or cocktails; reading -the latest trash; spooning, dancing, flirting,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -golfing, yachting, sporting, and parading -high-priced dogs, cats and monkeys whose mentality -and morals are often higher than their -owners’.</p> - -<p>Even Mother Nature here is togged out in -society form, laced and corseted. Trees and -flowers are trimmed out of all picturesqueness; -natural curves give way to geometrical squares; -lawns are imprisoned in concrete curbs; the air -is perfumed with the balmy fragrance of cigarettes -and cigars; there in no rest found beneath -palms, fruit trees or among plants and flowers -on account of the stinging swarms of society -gnats. Florid Florida folders describe Palm -Beach as “paradise,” but the attractions to me -were outside of the garden. Everything is -over-estimated. It is very far from the luxuriance -of Hawaii, the sport of Monte Carlo, -the beauty and history of Mediterranean -resorts. It takes more than a railroad and a -big hotel to beat them.</p> - -<p>Palm Beach pauperizes and provokes. Her -short season sickens and shames. She is the -painted, pampered prostitute of Florida. “Do -as you damn please” is her motto. This was -no place for a minister’s son, so I stood not upon -the order of my going, but went by the first -midnight train—before I lost all my money and -morals.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Froth Pulls This One</h3> - -<p>Belle—I don’t understand why Clarice lets -that common grocery boy play around with her?</p> - -<p>Buoy—Neither do I, unless it’s because he -delivers the goods.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Our New York Gossip</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Heaven forbid that I should be catty -about this; but I marvel at the new -medical malady introduced into the world -by the great Mlle. Suzanne Lenglen, the French -tennis star.</p> - -<p>It is a peculiar kind of bronchial cough that -only comes on when you are getting licked. -The peculiarity of the disease that the paroxysm -of coughing take place every time one -loses a point; the gaining of a point is followed -by an immediate, temporary recovery.</p> - -<p>Brethren and sisters, I don’t want to bring -on another European war; but we gotta have -the truth about this French jane who came over -here to mop up the tennis courts with our -American girls.</p> - -<p>The real malady from which Mlle. Lenglen -was suffering was an overdose of publicity. -They tell me that, at the time of the Olympic -games in Belgium, the French star had begun -to believe that the rest of the firmament where -she was not was a comparatively dull affair.</p> - -<p>One day, at Antwerp, she arrived at the -stadium without her ticket of admission. To -the gatekeeper who held out his mit for the -accustomed cardboard, she said with freezing -hauteur, “I am the great Lenglen.” I don’t -know what the gatekeeper did; I suppose he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -dropped dead and was carried out by the heels; -but anyhow, that is what she said.</p> - -<p>When she arrived in America, the little -French girl did a very foolish thing. She gave -out an interview loftily pooh-poohing all the -American stars—especially Molla Bjurstedt -Mallory, whom she said she had defeated without -trying.</p> - -<p>Now it happens that Molla is a sweet, kind-hearted, -unaffected, courageous little Norwegian -girl. She was a professional masseuse -when she came to America; but disarmed the -snobbery of the Newport tennis set by her -good sportsmanship.</p> - -<p>She read the catty remarks that Lenglen -had said about her and she came out on the -tennis courts at Forest Hills looking for blood. -The dander of her Norse Viking ancestors was -up. The way she lit into the French girl filled -the latter with dismay. In the face of the tornado, -the “great Lenglen” retired shivering to -the back courts and straightway developed a -sensational cough.</p> - -<p>At the end of the first set, she threw up her -hands and quit cold, leaving the courts in tears. -Molla retired from the battle in high dignity; -but as soon as the club house doors closed upon -her, she was almost smothered by the kisses -and hugs of the other girl tennis players who -had gathered for the tournament. Mlle. Lenglen -during her brief stay of two days had managed -to make herself thoroughly unpopular.</p> - -<p>It is predicted that the other French champion, -Carpentier, will not be basking in quite -such a halo of hero worship when he comes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -back again, next winter, to fight Tom Gibbons.</p> - -<p>Georges made a gallant and inspiring fight -against Jack Dempsey but, around the neighborhood, -they were not quite so strong for him.</p> - -<p>It is certainly an awful thing to contemplate; -but if the new picture censors of New -York have their way, the world is due to be -a lonely void without any one-piece bathing -suit girls.</p> - -<p>The first thing they did on taking office recently -was to throw out the picture of some -Dallas, Texas, young ladies who won the prizes -for having the best—well, y’ know—bathing -suits and so on.</p> - -<p>Hardly had the metropolis recovered from -this shock when the censors ruthlessly stepped -on Hope Hampton’s thousand dollar bathing -suit which recently gave Atlantic City a thrill.</p> - -<p>Of course, you understand that Hope’s bath -suit was made out of seal skin; and seal skin -is so awfully expensive that she naturally -couldn’t get such an awful lot of it for a thousand -dollars—and that was the kind of suit it -was.</p> - -<p>The censors gave the indignant Miss Hampton -a funny reason for their official “thumbs -down” ruling. They said that her bath suit -was against the city ordinances of Atlantic City—and -they couldn’t stand for that—even if it -was in New Jersey.</p> - -<p>Whereupon most of the New York papers -promptly proceeded to print both of the censor -forbidden pictures, thereby giving them about -a dozen times the publication they would have -had on the screen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> - -<p>It is practically a defi on the part of the -Metropolitan daily papers, who say in effect -to Governor Miller, “Why don’t you try censoring -us, too?”</p> - -<p>And now we are on the subject of Hope -Hampton, they tell me that, although a really -nice little girl, Hope has begun to feel her dignity. -Not long ago, at her picture studio two -electricians were fixing an overhead light. One -of them, looking down upon the set, said, “Now -we’ve got it right. It’s right above her head.”</p> - -<p>Whereupon the lovely young star stared upward -with a cold and terrible stare:</p> - -<p>“Where do you get that stuff, ‘her’?” she -demanded. “When you are talking about me, -say ‘Miss Hampton.’”</p> - -<p>There are alarming rumors that Hope is going -onto the stage along with the other movie -stars who are headed furiously in that direction.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, Theda Bara, to counter-balance -the exodus, is going back to the screen -again.</p> - -<p>Personally I quiver with excitement waiting -to find out if T’eda is going to be a vamp on -the screen again. She’s a queer girl—T’eda.</p> - -<p>It used to be said of Oliver Goldsmith that -he wrote like an angel and talked like a fool. -Just the other way with T’eda.</p> - -<p>Personally she is one of the most charming -women I ever met. She has brains, wit, philosophy, -humor and concentration. She is a brilliant -conversationalist. I once heard her talk -with a dramatist, renowned for his brilliant -conversation, and the silver-tongued genius had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -nothing on her. She simply sizzled and coruscated -with brilliancy.</p> - -<p>But when she stops talking and turns to her -professional life, the brains ooze out somewhere. -The only thing worse than Theda’s pictures -was Theda’s play, put on last season. At -that, she has real ability as an actress—if she -would take up sane subjects.</p> - -<p>Theda was married the other day to one -Charles Braban, a director.</p> - -<p>A few days after the wedding, she was in -court testifying as a witness. They asked her -for her name. She said it was Theda Bara.</p> - -<p>The lawyer was one of these bull-dozing -gents. “I want to know your real name,” he -said with cheap sarcasm.</p> - -<p>The courts recently gave the lady the right -to change her legal name from Theodosia -Goodman, with which she was born, to her -stage name Theda Bara; so she replied with -dignity, “My real name is Theda Bara.” And -annihilated the lawyer with a look. The examination -had proceeded when she suddenly -shrieked, “Oh, no. Excuse me. I forgot. I am -Mrs. Charles Braban.”</p> - -<p>The deeply regretted death of Caruso will -be followed by a musical revolution.</p> - -<p>It is an admitted fact that no good American -name goes in musical circles. If you were -not born on the other side, you have to pretend -you were and apologize and take a foreign -moniker; or you will not be accepted in your -own, your native land.</p> - -<p>The way things are now, no American singer -can possibly break in without going to Europe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -for a long and expensive course of study—just -to get the European stamp of approval.</p> - -<p>Some of the bitterest tragedies of this world -have been those of American girls who found -the doors closed to them in their own country -by foreign impressarios and who struggled -their way to Europe in order to work for German -or Italian permission to follow their own -professions in their own country. A good many -found heart-aches, poverty and other worse -tragedies over there.</p> - -<p>And now coming to the point: it looks as -though the logical successor of Caruso might -be a young California boy of good old American -stock—Mario Chamley. He is a regular young -“he” American who talks baseball; goes to all -the fights and is “regular” from the basement -up. He has a glorious golden voice and has -gone to the front in the Metropolitan more -rapidly than any other young tenor in the history -of American opera. The future seems to -have boundless possibilities for him.</p> - -<p>Chamley is a charming young fellow to -meet. Opera singing is just a job—like any -other—to him. He tells some outrageously funny -stories about life in an opera company. -Among other adventures, the first time he appeared -in a grand role in the Metropolitan, he -burst the waist band that held up his pants.</p> - -<p>When the curtain went down and the applause -began, the excited impressario tried to -drag him out in front of the curtain.</p> - -<p>The young tenor tried to tell him his pants -were coming down, but he couldn’t remember -how to say it in Italian. The impressario<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -thought it was just shyness and modesty that -kept him back and tried to drag him along. -Just in time, one of the other singers, explained -the situation and the Metropolitan audience -lost a chance for a comic thrill.</p> - -<p>And now, brethren, that will be about all for -today, except that the press agent of the Ziegfield -Follies has announced with heat of excitement -that the girls have formed a club to -prosecute and reply to those who say they go -to rough parties and live wild lives. Cross my -heart, I have always believed that the Ziegfield -girls spent all their spare time reading dictionaries -and doing tatting work and helping -mother with the dishes. So they can’t get anything -on me, b’ gosh.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>A Gimme For Fair</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">First he said “Gimme a kiss,”</div> -<div class="verse">Then he said “Gimme a hug,”</div> -<div class="verse">Then he wanted “A lock of my hair.”</div> -<div class="verse">I filled these requests with glee.</div> -<div class="verse">Then to prove truly that he was a “gimme”</div> -<div class="verse">The brute, he gave me “the air.”</div> -<div class="verse indent2">(’Tis tuff, sister, ’tis tuff.)</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Getting the Sheckels</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Why wait until you’re old and bent?</div> -<div class="verse">The wise bird took ’em as he went.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Over in Italy they have a new drink, made -out of prunes. They call it Prunell. That’s -nothing. Over here they have a new drink -made out of raisins. They call it Raisenell.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Stranger (winking): Can you direct me to -a good drug store?</p> - -<p>Villager: You’re talking to one right now.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The ocean wearily exclaimed,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">“Incessantly I go;</div> -<div class="verse">I wonder that I don’t get corns</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Upon my undertow.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>The first Tommy was ruddy of complexion, -with a huge growth of beard of the hue known -as auburn.</p> - -<p>The second was smooth shaven. Said the -latter: “I useter have a beard like that till I -saw myself in the glass. Then I cut it off.”</p> - -<p>But the bearded man was not dismayed.</p> - -<p>“Much better ’ave left it on, mate,” he returned -gently. “I useter have a face like yours -till I saw it in the glass. Then I growed this -beard.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>How Do They Get That Way?</h3> - -<p>Mother—Come, Bobbie, don’t be a little savage—kiss -the lady.</p> - -<p>Bobbie—No, she’s a naughty lady. If I kiss -her she may give me a slap just like she did -Papa.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>That’s Righto!</h3> - -<p>The man who has the love and confidence of -a good woman, and whom the children run to -meet when he is coming home from his work at -night, may no be rated as a millionaire, by Bad -Street and Done, but High-Gate Pete has him -pretty well lined up in the Babe Ruth class!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>George, my boy, when a girl really loves you -she’ll wade through hell for you unprotected -and with her hair unleashed and streaming -defiantly behind her as Love’s Unconquerable -Flag. You’re the whole works to her—from the -engineer to the president, and the directors and -stockholders heaved in for good measure. All -other men, compared to you, are only accidents -or bellhops.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>The Modern Way</h3> - -<p>A jug o’ pumpernickel, a hunk o’ buttermilk -and a case of near-beer, a pinch o’ limburger -and a bouquet of green onions, a ukelele, an -electric fan and a fly swatter, a porch hammock, -the Whiz Bang, a package of cigarettes, -a few jazz records and a chicken and you -couldn’t wish Harding’s job on me!</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>As the old Hebrew walked across the golf -links, a ball bounced off his head with considerable -force. He turned angrily upon the -golfer. “Say,” he yelled, “You want to kill -me?” “I sue you for fife tousand dollars.”</p> - -<p>“Didn’t you hear me? I said ‘Fore.’”</p> - -<p>“All right,” Ikey replied, “I’ll take it.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller">She hangs out in our alley, but oh! what she hangs -out.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Good Night, Shirt</h3> - -<p>“See here, I will not let you go out in a frock -like that.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t be an ass, Jack. I’m not going out—I’m -going to bed.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Whiz Bang Editorials</i></h2> - -<p class="by"><i>“The Bull is Mightier Than the Bullet.”</i></p> - -</div> - -<h3>Making It Perfectly Clear</h3> - -<p class="dropcap">Although tradition holds the devil was -masculine, there is at least one person in -the world who would dispute tradition -and stamp the evil one a woman. You may not -agree with him, but then again you may, so -here’s the poem:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">As the story is told, in the ages of old,</div> -<div class="verse">The devil, a spirit, was free,</div> -<div class="verse">To wander at will, mid the good and the ill,</div> -<div class="verse">So the devil a roaming went he.</div> -<div class="verse">In a garden he met an old man and his pet,</div> -<div class="verse">And straightway enamored was he</div> -<div class="verse">With Eve, young and cute, so he gave her some fruit,</div> -<div class="verse">For the devil a serpent could be.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then she put on a skirt and made Adam a shirt—</div> -<div class="verse">A cunning young vixen was she—</div> -<div class="verse">Concealing her charms, yet displaying her arms,</div> -<div class="verse">Till the devil he chuckled in glee.</div> -<div class="verse">For he saw at a glance that his charms would enhance</div> -<div class="verse">If only a female were he;</div> -<div class="verse">So, donning her clothes, through creation he goes,</div> -<div class="verse">And the devil a woman is she!</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“<i>Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Holy angels guard thy bed,</i>”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">were the soft sweet words I heard as I passed -by a little cottage home. Glancing in the open -doorway, I saw a young mother rocking her -baby to sleep. It recalled the voice of my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> -mother who sings to me across the years of -babyhood, youth and manhood.</p> - -<p>In memory’s light I see the old cradle. It -was a homely thing. The sides sloped, it was -just wide enough for a baby’s arms to reach -across, high enough for the little sister to look -over, and the brother to learn to walk by. It -was shaped like a kind of Noah’s Ark, but in -it we children rocked and rode safely over all -the storms of early years.</p> - -<p>It had a wooden canopy at the head. As -we looked up, it must have seemed like the edge -of the world, or a dark background on which -to paint awful childish fancies. Sometimes a -loud man or an ugly woman looked over it into -our faces, spoke, and we were frightened and -cried, but mother came and smiled the tears -away.</p> - -<p>The rockers were curved and turned over at -the end, and were worn smooth and gray. -Weary with work, mother sat by our side, -placed her tired foot on the rocker, and to the -time beat of a loving heart, rocked us to sleep -as she knitted, sewed, mended, thought or -prayed.</p> - -<p>For many years the old cradle was going -most of the time. Again and again a big baby -was taken out of the cradle and a small one -put in. She sang as only the mother can, whose -child is born of pain and baptized with tears.</p> - -<p>It was a lullaby sweet and low, like hum of -bees in summertime; a song in a nursery, and -not in a concert hall; a song not for the many -but for just one pair of little ears which heard -and loved and understood. It was rock, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -sing, for nap by day and long sleep by night; -rock and sing when well and glad or sick and -sad. One day the cradle was stilled, the little -brother, Gordon, was sound asleep, his long -lashes cast shadows on the upturned cheek, -and the little fingers had changed a red rose -for a white lily. His cradle had rocked him -nearer to the tomb for “birth is nothing but our -death begun.”</p> - -<p>Dear cradle of childhood, that rested so -many tired bodies and soothed so many hearts. -Today the old cradle is in the dark garret and -the tired mother rests in the dark grave. The -hands that laid the pillow and spread the cover -have stopped their work; the foot that rocked -it has finished its journey; the face that hovered -above it is gone and the song she sang is -silent.</p> - -<p>Baby boys and girls are men and women -now, but they can never forget the old cradle. -How often when body, mind and heart ache we -toss and cry during the long night hours, and -wish that mother could hug, kiss and put us -in the old cradle again and rock and sing us -to sleep.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="dropcap">We note with amusement that certain -of the sanctimonious sect still are passing -“resolutions” about the Dempsey-Carpentier -fistic embroglio, deploring the same -as a “disgrace to our civilization.” These are -the same “birds” who would have us scrap our -navy and reduce the army to a squad of boy -scouts with Easter lilies in their hands.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - -<p>A “prize fight” is no more brutal than any -other manifestation of power; no more “disgraceful” -in what we call civilization than any -other application of force. Force rules the -universe; nothing can resist it. It would take -physical force to maintain any law against -prize fighting just as it takes physical force to -keep the bathing beauties from discarding their -two-ounce outfits as too burdensome to wear.</p> - -<p>Prize fighting is a “disgrace to civilization” -only because it is mercenary, venal, sordid; yet -we loan our money on mortgages and sell our -goods at a profit with never a thought of disagreeable -civilization. The fighter sells his -ability to clout another prize fighter on the chin -before the other bambino of the bulging biceps -bangs him on his own proboscis.</p> - -<p>The power of the state is behind all human -law and activity—the threat of physical enforcement -keeps Pedro, Jr., out of Neighbor -Jones’ alfalfa patch. Society is protected by -force and sometimes with arms. Our civilization -is merely armed resistance to “barbarism” -and the brutality is always under the thin pretense -of “culture” and “refinement.”</p> - -<p>We have no desire to see America a nation -of male toe dancers. Let there be “prize fighting” -if it is to help save the country from the -bigotry of the organized minority. If we don’t -look out we’ll soon be as unprotected as a toke -point oyster on the half shell—and it will be -the folk who are raving about prize fighting -that will do it.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>My hip is often my castle.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Ikey’s New Bank</h3> - -<p>Ikey was talking to his Yiddish merchant -friend in the latter’s store when the dealer’s -young son toddled in and said, “Papa, give me -some money.” The father reached in his pocket -and handed the boy a quarter. His friend appeared -rather shocked at the show of liberality. -“Why, how much spending money do you -give that kid every week?” he asked. Levy -replied, “Only three quarters.”</p> - -<p>“Don’t you think you’re too extravagant -with a child?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, no,” answered Levy, “I showed him -how to put the quarters in the gas meter and -he thinks it’s a bank.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Report From London</h3> - -<p>They were holding an inquest upon poor -Sandy McHarris, whose body had been taken -from the Thames. Eleven of the jury were for -returning a verdict of suicide, but the twelfth, -a brither Scot demurred.</p> - -<p>“Hoo could it be suicide?” he asked. “Ah’m -for a vairdict o’ ‘Accidental death,’ maisel. -Ye’ll notice that the puir laddie had a bottle of -whisky on him, and it was nearly full.”</p> - -<p>Verdict in accordance with the evidence.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>“Say, Gus,” asked a neighbor, “I heard that -the foreman has had a fever. How’s his temperature -today?” Our hired man scratched his -head and decided not to commit himself. “Taint -for me to say,” he replied. “He died last -night.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Smokehouse Poetry</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p><i>In the November issue Smokehouse Poetry will bring -back to memory that Civil War classic, “Your Letter, Lady, -Came Too Late.” This beautiful and touching poem was -written by an officer of the Confederate Army to the most -beautiful and brilliant belle of Savannah, the fiancee of the -officer’s companion in prison. The woman had written a -cold, heartless letter, but her fiance had died before the letter -was received and the poem was in answer to it.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><i>Tonight your home may shine with lights,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And ring with merry songs,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And you be smiling as though your soul</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Had done no deathly wrong.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Your hands so fair, none would think</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Had penned these words of pain,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Your skin so white, would God, your heart,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Were half so free from stain.</i></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><i>In addition to this noted classic, Whiz Bang will reproduce -“Down In the Lehigh Valley,” which is well known by -name among Smokehouse fans. And, in parting, folks, don’t -forget that the Winter Annual will contain the greatest assortment -of Smokehouse poetry ever put into print. Send -your dollar in before you are too late.</i></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>The Prisoner’s Prayer</h3> - -<p><i>This poem was written by Arthur Winter on the wall of -the Federal Prison at McNeil Island, Washington, in September, -1909, and later memorized by another prisoner and -forwarded to the Whiz Bang upon his release. We offer it -to you for what you think it is worth.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Our prayer has gone up through the ages</div> -<div class="verse">To a God whom they say gave us souls;</div> -<div class="verse">But the fear of anger still rages,</div> -<div class="verse">The thunder of punishment rolls.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">We are sheep that are driven to slaughter;</div> -<div class="verse">We are dogs that are whelped in the street;</div> -<div class="verse">We are useless as poisonous water;</div> -<div class="verse">We are only for punishment meet.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">So hear ye the prayers from the prison,</div> -<div class="verse">Where fever and famine are rife;</div> -<div class="verse">Where never one soul has arisen,</div> -<div class="verse">Where myriads go down in the strife.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Where the black wing of death scarcely hovers,</div> -<div class="verse">Lest its jesters should make him unclean;</div> -<div class="verse">And the soft fleecy clouds hurry over,</div> -<div class="verse">To shut out God’s sun from the scene.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Where the light of God’s orb would be stricken,</div> -<div class="verse">With shame as it passed in the sky,</div> -<div class="verse">To look in the cells where we sicken,</div> -<div class="verse">To fall in the sod where we die.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">If thou, God, omnipotent being,</div> -<div class="verse">Can pierce the prison’s pale gloom;</div> -<div class="verse">And growest not sick of the seeing,</div> -<div class="verse">This charnel, this foul-reeking tomb?</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">If Thy hand stretch not forth in its anger,</div> -<div class="verse">To smite this damn den of despair,</div> -<div class="verse">Whose evil is rampant, and languor</div> -<div class="verse">Is lord of the poisonous lair.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then God, take Ye back your creation,</div> -<div class="verse">And plunge it in infinite fire,</div> -<div class="verse">Your wrath is eternal damnation,</div> -<div class="verse">But man’s is more lasting dire.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>The Sunflower Kid</h3> - -<p class="center sans">By Koffdrop DeHaven.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A few years back, in my palmy days, when the boxing game was grand,</div> -<div class="verse">I tipped the scales at a hundred and ten; had a punch in either hand;</div> -<div class="verse">But I never was a top notch, the reason for which I’ll tell,</div> -<div class="verse">I was learning a trade in a boiler shop; I worked, and worked like everything;</div> -<div class="verse">I was down at the gym three times a week, tore off six rounds each night,</div> -<div class="verse">’Till I found myself in tiptop shape and ready for the fight.</div> -<div class="verse">I was matched to box “The Sunflower Kid,” the colored bantam champ;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -<div class="verse">I knew he was good so I trained down fine, and stuck to my training camp.</div> -<div class="verse">For I never drank nor smoked then, boys, I prided my health and strength,</div> -<div class="verse">Could box like Gibbons and hit like Jack, had a good left jab for its length.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The fight with the “chocolate drop” was at the Chickatawbut club;</div> -<div class="verse">Although I was white I was in the dark for they took me for a dub.</div> -<div class="verse">We entered the ring and a whoop went up, we both shared the applause,</div> -<div class="verse">They liked us both and “The Kid” was a price and we knew each other’s flaws.</div> -<div class="verse">For we went to school together, “The Sunflower Kid” and me,</div> -<div class="verse">And we knew each other’s tactics like the saying A to Z.</div> -<div class="verse">The bell rang; we came to the front and neither of us smiled,</div> -<div class="verse">We were feinting and “feeling each other out,” and one of my swings went wild;</div> -<div class="verse">No damage was done in the opening round, except for a few left hooks,</div> -<div class="verse">I was sure I had his number then and proceeded to mar his looks.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">The eighth opened up, I was still very fresh, getting stronger all the while,</div> -<div class="verse">I ducked “The Kid’s” right swing to the jaw and met him with a smile,</div> -<div class="verse">Yes, a smile and also a right hand smash to the softest part of the jaw,</div> -<div class="verse">And “The Kid” went down from the force of the blow and laid out on the straw.</div> -<div class="verse">The referee counted ten and then the “Kid” didn’t move a bit,</div> -<div class="verse">I knelt beside him, got hold of his head, I knew he was hard hit.</div> -<div class="verse">A doctor jumped in and felt his pulse, put water on his head,</div> -<div class="verse">A minute later he tested his heart and announced the “Kid” was dead.</div> -<div class="verse">From that time on, I’m sorry to say, my life began to fail</div> -<div class="verse">In health and strength and happiness for I served ten years in jail.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">And now I am fighting Barleycorn and my hair is turning gray,</div> -<div class="verse">And I’ll beget this tough old gamester until my judgment day.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Not Me</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">When a pretty Fairy gets on a car,</div> -<div class="verse">And her dress comes kinder high,</div> -<div class="verse">The goodly man will steal a glance,</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Even as you and I.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">But when he’s with a real nice girl,</div> -<div class="verse">To look, he will not try,</div> -<div class="verse">He is a regular “model man”</div> -<div class="verse indent4">Even as you and I.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Evolution</h3> - -<p class="center"><i>Jazzed a trifle—Apologies to Langdon Smith</i></p> - -<p class="center sans">By Neil McConlogue.</p> - -<div class="smaller"> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">When you were part of an elephant’s tusk</div> -<div class="verse">In the Palezoic time,</div> -<div class="verse">And I rode round in a walrus mouth</div> -<div class="verse">’Mid the piscatorial slime,</div> -<div class="verse">Or skittered with many a caudal flip</div> -<div class="verse">Thru the depths of a salmon fen—</div> -<div class="verse">Our hearts were rife with that dentine life,</div> -<div class="verse">But—I wasn’t with you then.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">That was before the colored man</div> -<div class="verse">Invented the game called Crap;</div> -<div class="verse">Before they cubed and spotted our sides,</div> -<div class="verse">And tossed us toward Fortune’s Lap.</div> -<div class="verse">But the world turned on in the lathe of time;</div> -<div class="verse">The hot sands heaved amain;</div> -<div class="verse">And our faces were polished with emery wheel—</div> -<div class="verse">Then between us they made a game.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">At first they called us a “game of dice.”</div> -<div class="verse">We were drab as a dead man’s hand:</div> -<div class="verse">We lolled at ease ’neath the dripping trees,</div> -<div class="verse">Or trailed thru the mud and sand.</div> -<div class="verse">Sextette-sided, with corners round,</div> -<div class="verse">Writing a language dumb;</div> -<div class="verse">While fingers snapped and cash exchanged</div> -<div class="verse">On bets that we wouldn’t “come.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Later they labeled us “African Golf.”</div> -<div class="verse">And they gave us a spin once more.</div> -<div class="verse">Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold</div> -<div class="verse">Of the Terra Firma shore.</div> -<div class="verse">The aeons came, and the aeons fled,</div> -<div class="verse">But the hand that held us fast,</div> -<div class="verse">Was sure to hold us a bit too long,</div> -<div class="verse">We tried hard, but—couldn’t “pass.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then light and swift thru the jungle trees</div> -<div class="verse">Swung the white men in their flights;</div> -<div class="verse">And they heard the darkies plead “Come little Joe”!</div> -<div class="verse">In the hush of policeless nights.</div> -<div class="verse">And, Oh! What improvement the white man made!</div> -<div class="verse">For us there were no bounds!</div> -<div class="verse">We were riven away by a newer day,</div> -<div class="verse">And no longer rolled on the ground.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Thus point by point, and “pass” by “pass,”</div> -<div class="verse">Onward thru cycles strange,</div> -<div class="verse">We “sevened,” “elevened,” “nined,” and “fived,”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -<div class="verse">And followed the chain of change;</div> -<div class="verse">’Till there came a time in Gambledom</div> -<div class="verse">’Midst many a weal and woe—</div> -<div class="verse">They changed the name of this plucky game</div> -<div class="verse">To “Bounding Domino.”</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Long were the “rolls” on the table-top.</div> -<div class="verse">When the game would once begin;</div> -<div class="verse">Longer the howls of the “folks-of-chance”</div> -<div class="verse">When “hard-luck” came trooping in.</div> -<div class="verse">O’er gold, and silver, and paper notes,</div> -<div class="verse">They’d fight, and claw, and tear;</div> -<div class="verse">And cheek by jowl—with words quite foul</div> -<div class="verse">They’d soil the clothes they’d wear.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">We were discovered so long ago</div> -<div class="verse">In a time that no man knows;</div> -<div class="verse">Yet here tonight, in the mellow light,</div> -<div class="verse">Near the race-track at Pamlico,</div> -<div class="verse">Our eyes are dotted with half-carat stones</div> -<div class="verse">That shine like the Devon Springs;</div> -<div class="verse">And cute Flappers display us in public</div> -<div class="verse">Quite as proudly as diamond rings.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">It makes no difference if we are rolled</div> -<div class="verse">For a dollar, five, or ten.</div> -<div class="verse">Our love is cold, our game is old,</div> -<div class="verse">And the “sucker” our kith and kin.</div> -<div class="verse">Tho cities have sprung above the graves</div> -<div class="verse">Where the crook-boned-men made war,</div> -<div class="verse">Let us drink anew to the time when you</div> -<div class="verse">Found the hardest point was “Four.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="center sans">Moral:</p> - -<p class="noindent">REMEMBER, He who operates a barber-shop is not barbaric; -He that studies the lunar system is not a lunatic; He who -exists on a stew is not always a student; He who thinks that -One Broadway makes New York has “muchly” to learn; And—He -that caresseth the Uneasy Ivories is hastily disconnected -from his dough.</p> - -<p class="noindent">Never Shoot Crap!</p> - -<p class="noindent">Never! Remember That!</p> - -<p class="noindent">TOTAL MORAL: Play Poker Instead!</p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Is it you I love dear?</div> -<div class="verse">I can scarcely tell.</div> -<div class="verse">When you smile your eyes, dear,</div> -<div class="verse">Make me think of Nell.</div> -<div class="verse">When you’re sad, your mouth, dear,</div> -<div class="verse">Makes me think of Sue,</div> -<div class="verse">But, dear, when I kiss you,</div> -<div class="verse">I am sure it’s you.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Oh! You City Slickers</h3> - -<p class="center sans">By Gordon Campbell.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">’Twas down in the Lehigh Valley</div> -<div class="verse">That me and my pal, Lou,</div> -<div class="verse">Was workin’ in a hash house,</div> -<div class="verse">An’ a pretty good one too.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">It was there that I met Gonzola;</div> -<div class="verse">She was the village belle,</div> -<div class="verse">Now I was only a waiter,</div> -<div class="verse">But I loved that gal like everything.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Then along come a city feller,</div> -<div class="verse">A slick haired son of the idle,</div> -<div class="verse">An’ stole my darling little Lou</div> -<div class="verse">To slip on the marriage bridle.</div> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">So fill up the glasses, stranger,</div> -<div class="verse">An’ I’ll be on my way;</div> -<div class="verse">I’ll get the guy that stole my gal,</div> -<div class="verse">If it takes till the judgment day.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Our Paris Letter</h3> - -<p>A Jack Johnson burst over the shell hole -into which Pat and Mike had crawled. “Oi’ve -been shot in the foot,” said Pat. Mike immediately -placed Pat on his shoulder and started -for the hospital. On his way there another -shell took off Pat’s head. Arriving at the first -aid station, the sentry hailed Mike.</p> - -<p>“No use bringing any dead men in here,” -he said. “That fellow’s head has been shot -off.”</p> - -<p>“Why, the son-of-a-gun,” exclaimed Mike, -“he told me it was his foot.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Oh, Pickle My Bones</h3> - -<p>Pat—“Well, Mike, I just saw a doctor about -my loss of memory.”</p> - -<p>Mike—“What did he do?”</p> - -<p>Pat—“He made me pay in advance.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Questions and Answers</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Breezy Bill</i></b>—“What’s the tallest tree -you ever have seen?”—<b><i>Ella Mental.</i></b></p> - -<p>Up at Pequot we have a tree that is so big -it takes two men to look at it; one man looks -up at it as far as he can and the other man -begins where the first left off.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—I often have heard that -there are lots of cows that do not give milk -during the summer. Is this true?—<b><i>O. Shoot.</i></b></p> - -<p>Yes, in a way, but the next time anyone says -such things you just tell them it’s “bull.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—I am a girl fourteen -years old and have a dog named Toddles. -Should I let a boy of fifteen hug me?—<b><i>Dot.</i></b></p> - -<p>No, go in the house, and take the dog in, -too.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—I met a guy at a dance, -he kissed me during the moonlight waltz. What -shall I do?—<b><i>Helen.</i></b></p> - -<p>Lay off the moonlight waltzes.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—Could you tell me when -Cuba was discovered?—<b><i>Hi Drant.</i></b></p> - -<p>July 1, 1919.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—I am a young man only -seventeen years old. My mother says I shouldn’t -play with any rough girls. What shall I do?—<b><i>Percy.</i></b></p> - -<p>Do as your mother tells you, you little rascal.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—I am a boy eighteen -years old and am in love with a bootlegger’s -daughter. How can I tell her that I love her—<b><i>Al. -Hambra.</i></b></p> - -<p>Send me her address.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—What are the secrets -of success?—<b><i>Harold Lloydette.</i></b></p> - -<p>“Push,” said the button; “Take Pains,” said -the window; “Never be led,” said the pencil; -“Be up to date,” said the calendar; “Always -keep cool,” said the ice; “Never lose your head,” -said the hammer; “Make light of everything,” -said the fire; “Find a good thing and stick to -it,” said the glue.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Old Skip</i></b>—What are goofus feathers?—<b><i>U. -N. Omeal.</i></b></p> - -<p>The fuzz on a peach.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Admiral</i></b>—What is the easiest way to -catch a whiffempoof?—<b><i>A. Fisher.</i></b></p> - -<p>Throw a plug of tobacco in the water and -hit him on the head with a club when he comes -up to spit.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Bill</i></b>—Why is it that flies -can’t see in the winter time?—<b><i>I. C. Fairlywell.</i></b></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<p>I suppose it is because they leave their specs -behind in the summer time.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Skipper</i></b>—Can you dig me up a girl if -I come to Robbinsdale to visit you?—<b><i>Geehell.</i></b></p> - -<p>Sure, but what’s the matter with me getting -you a live one?</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Skipper</i></b>—What is funnier than a one-arm -man trying to wind his wrist watch?—<b><i>Horace.</i></b></p> - -<p>A glass eye at a keyhole.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Skip</i></b>—How is hash made?—<b><i>Hi Water -Shuz.</i></b></p> - -<p>It isn’t made. It accumulates.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Breezy Bill</i></b>—What’s your idea of the -height of optimism?—<b><i>Peter Outt.</i></b></p> - -<p>Changing your socks from one foot to the -other so that the toes will not fit the holes.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Captain Billy</i></b>—Do you think that if I -hired a pretty stenographer I would take more -interest in my business?—<b><i>J. G. P.</i></b></p> - -<p>I don’t know whether you would take more -interest in your business, but I know your wife -will.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Dear Skipper</i></b>—Who was the first original -profiteer?—<b><i>C. Serpent.</i></b></p> - -<p>The whale that swallowed Jonah; he -grabbed all the Prophet in sight.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>In case your Ford misses, look in the exhaust -pipe.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Pasture Pot Pourri</i></h2> - -</div> - -<h3>Come, Kiss the Heroine!</h3> - -<div class="smaller"> - -<p>Dear Editor: While coming over to America on a -steamer, the mate rushed up to me and threatened to blow -up the ship if I didn’t give him a kiss.</p> - -<p>What did I do?</p> - -<p>I saved the lives of four hundred people.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller sans"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Lives of ’skeeters all remind us,</div> -<div class="verse">While short skirts are all the go,</div> -<div class="verse">That to them existence must be</div> -<div class="verse">Just one great big burlesque show!</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Yes, Gus, ’tis sad but only too true that in -Georgia the peaches grow on the limbs while at -the beaches—but why break the monotony?</i></b></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>The hired hand, Gus, went to town the other -night to a dance. When he got back he said that -“nothing stands between certain dancers and -pneumonia but a sense of loyalty to their employers.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller"><i>Oh, Myrt, do you know Aurora Borealis? They say she -was all lit up last night.</i></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller bold">No, Geraldine, Sandy Hook is not a Scotchman.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller">I was walking down the street the other day and on the far -side was a fellow who looked familiar. “Hello, Bill,” I says. -“Hello, Tom,” says he. “My name ain’t Tom,” I says. “Well, my -name ain’t Bill, either,” says he. With that, I looks at him an’ he -looks at me an’ sure enough, it was neither of us.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Height of Speed</h3> - -<p class="smaller"><i>Our idea of a fast guy is one who can turn out the light -and get in bed before the room gets dark.</i></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Why don’t girls figure that it costs money -to press trousers?</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Our Book Review</h3> - -<p class="smaller">When a girl reading a novel begins to wet her lips, the -hero and heroine are about to meet.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><i>Girls will play fast and loose with men,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>We know; so what’s the use?</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>So first we’ll hold the loose ones, then,</i></div> -<div class="verse indent1"><i>We’ll turn the fast ones loose.</i></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller">The angels that fear to tread where fools rush in must -miss a lot of fun.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>A woman is not a heroine, Geraldine, just -because she is dying for a man.</i></b></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Ain’t It Awful, Mabel!</h3> - -<p class="smaller">Our friend Hooper writes us that last fall he was in Alaska; went -out to spend the evening with his best girl and didn’t come back for -six months. Some night, we’d say.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Height of Laziness</h3> - -<p>A fellow who gets up at five o’clock in the -morning so that he’ll have more time to loaf.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Har, Har, Ha!</h3> - -<div class="smaller sans"> - -<p>Heard a good joke this morning.</p> - -<p>Is it really a good one?</p> - -<p>Must be. My stenographer laughed until she almost fell off my lap -when I told it to her.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>A fast night makes a slow day. How well -do I know it this morning.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Plug it Up</h3> - -<div class="bold"> - -<p>He—My love for you is like a rushing brook.</p> - -<p>She—Dam it!</p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Oh, for a world of equal balance. Here we -find some women with no husbands atall, atall, -while others have husbands and assistant husbands.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller"><i>Women are like automobiles. Some are chummy roadsters -and some are merely runabouts.</i></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>A New Melody</h3> - -<p class="smaller bold">One of the latest song hits in Southern California is -“And we will get a little bungalow in Hollywood and live -our own sweet way.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="smaller"> - -<p><i>Indeed, Aloysius, you’re right—socks are the most frugal -things in the world. They wouldn’t think of dropping a scent -until they’re washed. Hoping you are the same, I am,</i></p> - -<p><i>Antiseptically speaking,</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>Yours for safety first,</i></p> - -<p class="right"><i>Bilious Billy.</i></p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller">Do you need any typewriter supplies? Yes, -send me two pounds of candy and a box of -chewing gum.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>About the only amusement women appear to have nowadays -is smoking cigarettes, shaking the shimmy, and shooting their -husbands.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>We wonder where the pictures that used to -hang in the bar rooms are now?</i></b></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Here It Is Again</h3> - -<p>Don’t bother bringing in the firewood, -Mother. Father will be home with a load.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Me friend Mulligan says wan time whin two -heads are not better than wan is whin you wake -up the morning after the night before.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Said our pet pole cat to his pretty pal: -“Now, dearie, do not be so high toned that you -can’t use common sense.”</i></b></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller">Talk about your nice dispositions—we have a man in -our town who retires early rather than keep the bedbugs -waiting for supper.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller"><i>Has anyone heard that little ballad entitled “Who shot -Nellie in the freckle?”</i></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller">What could be sweeter than the rib music of choir-practors.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="bold"> - -<p>Fair Dancer—Say, walk over your own feet!</p> - -<p>He—What do you think I am, a cross-country runner?</p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Button up your mouth, boys, you’ve ingrown -heels.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Today in History</h3> - -<p class="smaller">They were married and lived snappily ever after.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller"><i>It takes a tough bird to eat currents off a live wire.</i></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>A North Pole Ad</h3> - -<p class="center smaller">(From Charlotte, N. C., Paper)</p> - -<p class="smaller sans">To Sublet—Heated apartment for July and August.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>“So you’ve been to Paris? How did you like -the Eifel Tower?”</p> - -<p>“Eifel Tower? Huh, I didn’t have my eyes -more than two feet off the ground all the time -I was there.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>In Our Barn Yard</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">In she came;</div> -<div class="verse">Down she sot;</div> -<div class="verse">Laid a little egg,</div> -<div class="verse">And up she got.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>“The MISERY of a CHILD—is interesting -to a MOTHER!</p> - -<p>“The MISERY of a YOUNG MAN—is interesting -to a YOUNG WOMAN!</p> - -<p>“The MISERY of an OLD MAN—is interesting -to NOBODY!”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Roses are rare,</div> -<div class="verse">Violets are few,</div> -<div class="verse">I sure picked a lemon,</div> -<div class="verse">When I got you.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Joe’s a Gentleman</h3> - -<p>“Yes,” remarked the stout lady in the private -bar of the Helping Hand, “my Joe give me -a ruddy good leatherin’ larst night. You -oughter see my shoulders! They’re black and -blue. But,” she added proudly,“’e never ’its -me on the face, where it’ll show. My Joe’s too -much of a gentleman for that.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Reverting to the subject of colored babies, -George Washington Jackson, informs us that -his wife presented him with one last week that -weighed only two pounds. Now he wants to -know if this isn’t the first time a colored baby -was born so light.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Yes, Alfred, the ambitious girl is ambitious -to make a name for herself, but she usually -ends by accepting some man’s.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Lost, Almost</h3> - -<p>A pacifist orator in Hyde Park, London, -was declaiming against war. Seeing a returned -soldier listening on the edge of the crowd, he -roared out: “See that man! He is garbed in -the uniform of war. But I belong to the army -of heaven.” The “Tommy,” leisurely removing -his pipe from his mouth, dryly replied: “You’re -a ’ell of a way from your barracks, then.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>The height of Sir Walter Raleighism was -observed at a bathing beach last month, when -a young man carried a bathing suit clad girl -from boat to shore through six inches of water -so the poor dear would not get her feet wet.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Blessed are the orphan children, for they -have no mothers to spank them.</p> - -<p>Blessed are they who expect nothing, for -they shall not be disappointed.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>All we have to do in Robbinsdale to feel the -spirit of the good old days is to eat an ear of -corn and drink a pint of water.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Since the country is dry why manufacture -umbrellas with crooked handles to hang over -bars?</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>If a woman can’t break some man’s heart -she gets reckless and breaks her own.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Wise men never borrow trouble when they -can borrow money instead.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">One swallow doesn’t make a summer,</div> -<div class="verse">But one frog can make a spring.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>The other day I was riding in the street car. -I had my eye on a seat, but a woman sat on it.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>A chilly reception doesn’t cool one off on a -hot day.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Men fight with their fists, women with their -tears.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>When spinsterhood is bliss, ’tis folly to be -wives.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>We will now sing that touching little ballad, -entitled, “Girls, don’t put make-up on your -eyes, I’ll blacken ’em for you,” by the writers -of “Naughty Nellie.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">First I gave her peaches,</div> -<div class="verse">Then I gave her pears</div> -<div class="verse">Then I gave her fifty cents</div> -<div class="verse">And kissed her on the stairs.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>What we would like to know is what part -of a woman’s anatomy are the stairs. The -author evidently received his training from the -late Quenton, who reported that a South St. -Paul woman was shot in the boiler room. Well, -well, I must pull another cork now. Reminds -me of the time I was half shot in the Islands.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Her’s</h3> - -<p>Bachelor—“Do you suffer from cold feet?”</p> - -<p>Newlywed—“Yes, but they aren’t mine.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Arthur Neale’s Page</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p>Boarding our Interborough subway car at -Columbus Circle the other day en route for our -office—or, to be more exact, the office in which -we have desk room—we espied one of the loveliest -young feminine creatures it had ever yet -been our good fortune to gaze on. She would -have inspired artists to undreamed of masterpieces—she -would have thrilled even a sign-painter. -Bathed in her beauty we rode on, oblivious -of all else—even our getting off stop. -How we wished that we knew her! At Times -Square she arose to alight. Poor girl—she was -lame.</p> - -<p>Still reflecting on this, we reached the office -and started to put the final—not finishing—touches -to the musical composition we were -then at work on, a snappy little one-step entitled -“When My Baby Smiles at Me, I Wish -She’d See a Dentist.” We had no sooner put -pen to paper when one of these wandering -salesmen entered the office and planked down -his bag of wares on the desk. “Would you be -interested in anything in ladies’ silk stockings?” -he said. “We used to be,” we replied. -“But now we know it’s best to be careful.”</p> - -<p>During that day we had to make a trip -further downtown, and so used the subway -again. Seated opposite to us was a very nice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -girl with her mother, and her legs were crossed—that -is, the girl’s legs were. As Gus may -remember, or rather, as Gus will never forget, -there is a subway breeze wafting through these -cars, and it was wafting just then. The mother -noticed it, and although she spoke sotto voice—whatever -that is—we heard her say to the girl: -“Put your leg down, Rosie, der vind ist blowin’ -der dress up.” “That’s all right, ma,” said the -girl, “I ain’t deformed.” And seated directly -opposite, we knew that the lady was quite correct.</p> - -<p>While waiting with a friend the other evening -for a Times Square traffic jam to disentangle -itself, the friend drew our attention -to a taxicab stalled at the curb just where we -were standing. Or, to be precise, he drew our -attention to the contents of the cab. She was -a queen if there ever was one. Said our friend: -“Shouldn’t mind being in there with that one.” -“We should,” we replied. “Already the clock -says $9.60.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>All Was Not Well</h3> - -<p>“Don’t yo’ all know it’s wrong to shoot -craps?” piped the preacher as he discovered a -portion of his congregation pursuing the Goddess -of Chance.</p> - -<p>“Yas, suh,” admitted one parishioner, languidly, -“an’ bulieve me, Ah’s payin’ fo’ mah -sins.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3><i>A Tiresome Job</i></h3> - -<p class="center smaller">(From Minneapolis Journal)</p> - -<p class="smaller sans">LOOK—I must sell my shoe hospital, as I am getting tired of -sitting. 6383, Journal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>“You’re a stingy old tight wad, Bill.”</p> - -<p>“How do you make that out, Joe?”</p> - -<p>“Why I heard your wife say that if you -owned the Atlantic Ocean you wouldn’t even -give a clam a gargle.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Old Time Facts</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A certain young man named McGirth,</div> -<div class="verse">Was born on the day of his birth,</div> -<div class="verse">He was married they say</div> -<div class="verse">On his wife’s wedding day,</div> -<div class="verse">And he died on his last day on earth.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Pat was passing a graveyard one day and -read on a tombstone, “I still live.”</p> - -<p>“Be jabbers,” said Pat, “if I was dead sure -I’d own up to it.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Photographer’s Sign</h3> - -<p>I enlarge your babies and frame them for -only $5.00.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">A man I know kicked up a row</div> -<div class="verse indent1">That stirred the neighbors wrath</div> -<div class="verse">He walked up to a lady cow</div> -<div class="verse indent1">And slyly pinched her calf.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Lost or Stolen</h3> - -<p class="center smaller">(From Chattanooga Times.)</p> - -<p class="smaller">$10 REWARD. Black mare stolen. Return to W. W. Bell, -Tyner, Tenn. Small wart in ear, tail chewed off at hocks; mane -lays on both sides of neck; slightly reel-footed in two feet, one -front, one hind; $25 if thief is with horse.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Mother (to battered son)—George, how -many times have I told you to stop and count -to a hundred before fighting?</p> - -<p>George—That’s what I did, Ma, but the other -kid’s mother told him to count only ten.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Quick, Officer, He’s Bleedin’!</h3> - -<p>Why is a woman like an umbrella?</p> - -<p>Because she is made of ribs and attached to -a stick.</p> - -<p>No, have another guess.</p> - -<p>Because nobody ever gets the right one.</p> - -<p>Wrong, swing at it again.</p> - -<p>Because she fades with age.</p> - -<p>Almost, pull another.</p> - -<p>Because she is a good thing to have about -the house.</p> - -<p>Rotten. Here’s the answer: A woman is -like an umbrella because she is used to “reign.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>The Human Race</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse"><i>They sat alone in the moonlight,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>And she soothed his troubled brow;</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>“Dearest, I know my life’s been fast,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>But I’m on my last lap now.”</i></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>One reason there is so much sadness in the -world is that somewhere it is always time to -get up in the morning.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>What is a monologue?</p> - -<p>A conversation between husband and wife.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>The Most Regular Letter</h3> - -<div class="smaller sans"> - -<p>The most popular letter is the letter “E” for it was the beginning -and last of Eve, the beginning of Eternity, the end of Time and -Space, the beginning of every end, and the end of every Race, and -will always stick to Loraine, Marie and Florence to a finish.</p> - -<p>It is also the most unpopular letter for it is never in Cash, -always in Debt, everlastingly in Misery, never out of Danger, and -always in RENT, HELL, and NEAR-BEER!</p> - -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p class="smaller">They called the baby Ivy because she crawled all -around the house.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Our War Drama</h3> - -<p>While in New York City recently, a member -of the Wild Cat Division, now employed in -the McAlpin Hotel, related an anecdote on -Paddy O’Loughlin, one of the division headquarter -shuffers. It was after the armistice -had been signed that Paddy made a flying trip -to Paris, via his trusty flivver. Upon his return -he made the following report to his buddies:</p> - -<p>“The war ain’t finished yet, be gorra, by a -hekuva sight. The battle in Paris, which is -going on right now, is a darn sight worse than -we had with the Boche. It’s a whole lot different -kind of war, but a fellow isn’t any safer -on the Grand Boulevard than he was in front -of a German machine gun nest.</p> - -<p>“The attack started no more than I hit Paris -and it got worse every minute until I left. -You bet I was lucky to come out alive. The -enemy approached me as soon as I stepped out -of my truck and opened fire. She swooped down -on me like a thirsty Irishman pounces on a -glass of suds, grabbed hold of me by the arm -just like we used to nab the German prisoners -and tried to carry me off. I broke away from -her, but I hadn’t gone more than fifty feet before -I met another detachment of the enemy. -There were two of them this time. Say, talk -about your camouflage! The Germans or -French neither never had nothing on them. -Their lips were made up like strawberries, and -their eyes—oh, la! la!</p> - -<p>“They tried the same game on me and tried -to carry me away, but I got away from them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -When I hit the Boulevard, it was just like trying -to run through a heavy barrage. They -were all over, little cute one pounders and big -heavy seventy-fives. They used the old German -mass formation on me and when I tried to push -through, it was worse than climbing over barb -wire entanglements in No Man’s Land. The rate -of fire got hotter every minute. I didn’t want -to do it but there were too many of them and -I had to holler ‘Kamerad.’”</p> - -<p>We tried to get “Paddy” to tell what happened -after that, but he blushed and said that -was all.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>The Horse That Wins the Race</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">If you ever go to races I think you’ll agree,</div> -<div class="verse">In the following philosophy which oft occurred to me;</div> -<div class="verse">Some horses start off slowly and others make the pace,</div> -<div class="verse">But the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race.</div> -<div class="verse">It doesn’t always matter which jockey has your mount,</div> -<div class="verse">When they rally down the homestretch, one thing alone will count,</div> -<div class="verse">Luck often passes merit, and for better or for worse,</div> -<div class="verse">The rear horse gets his lashing and the front horse takes the purse,</div> -<div class="verse">When dealing cards in poker you are liable to find</div> -<div class="verse">That two pair seldom rank as high as three cards of a kind.</div> -<div class="verse">The King card is high card but it doesn’t beat the ace:</div> -<div class="verse">The first horse at the wire is the one that wins the race.</div> -<div class="verse">Just look the records over, and you’ll stay with me, I guess,</div> -<div class="verse">That really, for succeeding, there’s nothing like success;</div> -<div class="verse">The world will surely judge you by the things that you have done!</div> -<div class="verse">You will only get its pity for your battles nearly won.</div> -<div class="verse">Reputation isn’t always what it’s lauded up to be,</div> -<div class="verse">The shallow brooks are noisiest, down flowing to the sea,</div> -<div class="verse">Great genius sometimes hides itself within the common face;</div> -<div class="verse">Dark horses beat the favorites to many a gallant race.</div> -<div class="verse">Endeavor may be noble, but the world doesn’t care a pin,</div> -<div class="verse">For an ocean of endeavors unless they chance to win.</div> -<div class="verse">Finish what you’ve undertaken if you want to make a name</div> -<div class="verse">Success has filled the niches in the temple walls of Fame.</div> -<div class="verse">The most successful doctor is the one that most is paid,</div> -<div class="verse">The merchant who most prospers is the one who gets the trade,</div> -<div class="verse">The most successful lawyer is the one who wins the case,</div> -<div class="verse">And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race,</div> -<div class="verse">I often think it’s pretty hard that things should be just so,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -<div class="verse">But you have to buy your ticket if you want to see the show.</div> -<div class="verse">It’s the front of the procession where you always hear the band,</div> -<div class="verse">And the boy who gets hot peanuts is the first one at the stand.</div> -<div class="verse">So make your tablets ready and jot these maxims down;</div> -<div class="verse">It’s the peasant does the hustling and the king that wears the crown.</div> -<div class="verse">The man who gets the fox’s brush is the foremost in the chase,</div> -<div class="verse">And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Dead Earnest</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">I asked a young lady if she would wed,</div> -<div class="verse">With a smile in her bright roguish eyes, she said:</div> -<div class="verse">“Go ask father.”</div> -<div class="verse">Now she knew that I knew</div> -<div class="verse">That her father was dead.</div> -<div class="verse">And she knew that I knew</div> -<div class="verse">Of the life he had led.</div> -<div class="verse">So she knew that I knew,</div> -<div class="verse">What she meant when she said,</div> -<div class="verse">“Go ask father.”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">There was a young gent from Tex</div> -<div class="verse">Who made a trip over to Mex,</div> -<div class="verse indent2">And when he got back</div> -<div class="verse indent2">Forty pints in a sack;</div> -<div class="verse">He sold each pint for an X.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Scented talcum is all right, but hardly a -substitute for a bath.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3><i>Ancient But True</i></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Here’s that we may swear, steal, and lie;</div> -<div class="verse">When we swear may it be by the hand of justice;</div> -<div class="verse">When we steal may it be away from bad company;</div> -<div class="verse">When we lie may it be in the arms of the one we love best.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>U’re Right, Professorette</h3> - -<p>A wise woman once said there are three -follies of men. The first is climbing trees to -shake down the fruit, when if they would wait -long enough the fruit would fall of its own -weight; the second is going to war to kill each -other, when, if they only waited, they would die -naturally, and the third, that they run after -women when, if they would not do so, women -would be sure to run after them.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Before Prohibition: “See your own country -first.”</p> - -<p>After: “Visit foreign lands and see your -own country’s thirst.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Customer—“Bring me a Typographical Error.”</p> - -<p>Waiter (returning from kitchen)—“Sorry, -we have none.”</p> - -<p>Customer—“Well, here it is on the menu.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>A Sad Story</h3> - -<p>Ikey and Pat were wounded in an engagement -in the Argonne. A priest making the -rounds found them. After giving the Irishman -the last rites he then went over to Ikey and -asked, “Do you believe in the Father, Son and -Holy Ghost?”</p> - -<p>Ikey groaned and rolled over.</p> - -<p>“Oi, Oi! Here I am dying and you ask me -riddles.”</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2><i>Our Rural Mail Box</i></h2> - -</div> - -<p><b><i>C. U. Later</i></b>—Sunday is the strongest day. -All of the rest are weak days.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Sin O. Nimm</i></b>—Sorry, I can’t place you, but -your breath smells familiar.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Unicorn</i></b>—No, Uni, wrinkles do not denote -the age of a prune.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>I. C. S. Student</i></b>—You ask me what is the -most advisable course in the mining study to -take up. Would suggest that you take up -Kalso Mining.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Reggie</i></b>—Yes, Reginald, ’tis true, only too -true, that if the man in the moon had a baby -he’d have the sky rocket.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Doc. Brady</i></b>—As an instant relief for sore -feet would suggest that you walk on your -hands.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p><b><i>Run-Down Ikey</i></b>—A sure way to acquire -more initiative and pep is to wave a red shirt -in front of Pedro.</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>Wealth is not his that has it, but his that -enjoys it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>Our Exchange Story</h3> - -<p>In the days when Lord Kitchener, the invincible -bachelor, was remaking the British Indian -forces, a youthful officer asked for a furlough -to go home and be married. Kitchener -listened patiently, and then spoke kindly. -“Kenilworth, you’re not yet twenty-five. You’re -in the midst of a piece of work I value and -which you’re doing excellently. Wait a year. -By that time you’ll have cleaned the slate and -tried out your own mind. If then you still desire -to do this thing, speak to me again, and -you shall have leave; and I’ll take you back on -the staff afterwards.” The year passed, and -the officer once more proffered his request. -“And you really tell me,” asked Kitchener, -“that after thinking it over for twelve months -you still wish to marry?” “Yes, sir, very much -indeed.” “Adjutant,” commanded Kitchener, -“Kenilworth is to have furlough to go to his -own wedding. And frankly, my boy, I scarcely -thought there was so much constancy in the -masculine world.” Kenilworth about faced and -marched to the door, but there turned and said, -“Thank you, sir. Only it’s not the same -woman.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>It Can’t Be Done</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“Dress up,” roared the Topper, “y’ grinnin’ baboon;”</div> -<div class="verse">“Dress up,” bawled the Topper, “y’ half-witted loon.”</div> -<div class="verse">“How can I?” asked Riley, adjusting his spur.</div> -<div class="verse">“How can I dress up on thirty beans per?”</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<h3>On the Rocks</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<p class="center"><i>Lament of the Gold Striper</i></p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">“God bless you, dearie, I’ll always be waiting,”</div> -<div class="verse">Before I got back she’d done other mating.</div> -<div class="verse">With a goop that stayed home without any rating,</div> -<div class="verse">’Twas while I was gone that he did all his bating.</div> -</div> -<p class="center"><i>Sad Refrain</i>:</p> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Nothing to think about, nothing to do,</div> -<div class="verse">Nothing to talk about, none to talk to,</div> -<div class="verse">Nothing to look at, nothing is new,</div> -<div class="verse">Nobody to love, no one loves you.</div> -<div class="verse">Nothing to drink except in the sea,</div> -<div class="verse">No one to say, “Have one on me,”</div> -<div class="verse">Bootleg it? Yes, if you have the fee,</div> -<div class="verse">The label is there, but it’s only weak tea.</div> -<div class="verse">The sun never shines, nothing but rain,</div> -<div class="verse">Feel sore all over, nothing but pain,</div> -<div class="verse">No steps forward, not any gain.</div> -<div class="verse">Left on the rocks, and lost in the game.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>“You’ve got to admit one thing,” said the man -who believes prohibition has gone into effect, -“and that is since the country went dry you don’t -see so many smashed up automobiles on the -country roads.”</p> - -<p>“Yes,” answered his friend, as he adjusted -his glasses, “a fellow who takes more than one -shot of the hootch sold nowadays never gets as -far as the city limits.”</p> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<div class="poetry-container smaller"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="verse">Their jests, their quips, insipid jokes,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">I’ve heard till I am full;</div> -<div class="verse">Why can’t the men fling bullion,</div> -<div class="verse indent1">Instead of flinging bull.</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> - -<div class="starbreak">* * *</div> - -<p>I’ve been swimming a lot lately and as a -result am tanned a dark brown—so dark that -my wife won’t let me out of her sight for a -minute around the lakes—she’s afraid some -women follower of the Stillman divorce case -will mistake me for an Indian guide.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox w40"> - -<h2 class="u"><i>The Annual Is Out!</i></h2> - -<p>Whiz Bang’s greatest book—The Winter Annual -Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22—hot off the -press. Mailing will begin in a few days. To those -thousands of Captain Billy’s friends who already -have sent in their one dollar bills, checks or -stamps, we extend congratulations. Yours will go -out first, in the order in which your orders were -and are being received.</p> - -<p class="center larger bold">PIN A DOLLAR BILL</p> - -<p class="center">Or your check, money order or stamps<br /> -To the coupon on the opposite page.</p> - -<p>And receive our 256-page bound volume of -jokes, jests, jingles, stories, pot pourri mail bag -and Smokehouse poetry. The best collection ever -put in print.</p> - -<p class="center larger bold">REMEMBER, FOLK</p> - -<p>Last year our Annual (which was only one-fourth -as large as the 1921-22 book) was sold out -on the Pacific Coast within three or four days, -and not a copy could be bought <b>anywhere</b> in the -United States within ten days.</p> - -<p>So hurry up! First Come will be First Served!</p> - -<p>Pin your dollar bill to the coupon and mail to -the Whiz Bang Farm, Robbinsdale, Minn.</p> - -<p class="center smaller bold">Don’t write for early back copies of our regular issues.</p> - -<p class="center smaller bold">We haven’t any left.</p> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="bbox w40 all-red"> - -<h2><i>Our Winter Annual</i></h2> - -<p>In addition to republication of gems of earlier issues -of Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang, the first complete Winter -Annual of this great family journal will contain a large -variety of brand new jokes, jests, jingles, pot pourri, -stories, and smokehouse poetry. This book, Pedigreed -Follies of 1921-22, will contain four times as much reading -matter as the regular issue of the Whiz Bang and will -sell for one dollar per copy. It will be a book which will -be cherished by the readers for years to come, and will -contain the greatest collection of red-blooded poetry yet -put in print. Included in the list will be:</p> - -<div class="sans"> - -<p>Johnnie and Frankie, The Face on the Barroom Floor, -The Shooting of Dan McGrew, The Harpy, Lasca (in full), -The Girl in the Blue Velvet Band, Langdon Smith’s “Evolution,” -Advice to Men, Advice to Women, Our Own Fairy -Queen, Stunning Percy LaDue, Parody on Kipling’s “The -Ladies,” Toledo Slim.</p> - -</div> - -<p>Advance orders are now being received and will be -mailed in the order in which they are received. Tear off -the attached blank and mail to us today with your check, -money order or stamps.</p> - -<hr class="all-red" /> - -<p class="hanging sans">Whiz Bang,<br /> -Robbinsdale, Minnesota.</p> - -<p class="noindent">Gentlemen:</p> - -<p>Enclosed is dollar bill, check, money order or stamps -for $1.00 for which please send me the Winter Annual -of Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang, “Pedigreed Follies of -1921-22.”</p> - -<div class="form">Name</div> - -<div class="form">Address</div> - -</div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="w20 red"> - -<p class="center larger"><i class="u all-red">Everywhere!</i></p> - -<p><i>Whiz Bang</i> is on sale -at all leading hotels, -news stands, 25 cents -single copies; on trains -30 cents, or may be -ordered direct from -the publisher at 25 -cents single copies; -two-fifty a year.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"> -<img src="images/bull.jpg" width="200" height="75" alt="A bull" /> -</div> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. -25, October, 1921, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTAIN BILLY'S WHIZ BANG, OCT 1921 *** - -***** This file should be named 61435-h.htm or 61435-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/3/61435/ - -Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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