Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, April 1921 · page 61 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #19 — page 61: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from the satirical magazine contains three jokes targeting different groups. **"Balaam Gets Sympathy"** references the Biblical story of Balaam's ass (donkey), which miraculously spoke. The joke mocks a stuttering guest whose friend responds to a toast so poorly that witnessing it makes the friend finally sympathize with Balaam's embarrassment at being represented by his donkey. **"Heaven, Hell or Los Angeles"** uses racist dialect humor (common in early 20th-century American comedy) to joke about a Black soldier at Camp Kearney, California, going AWOL to see his girlfriend. The punchline equates Los Angeles with Heaven or Hell—implying it's as important as the afterlife. **The apartment building dialogue** satirizes Prohibition-era "hooch parties" (illegal alcohol gatherings). The joke suggests the partygoers are transient and unimpressed by eviction threats, having been kicked out of better places. All three rely on now-offensive stereotypes and assumptions about social hierarchies common to 1920s American humor.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang 59 Balaam Gets Sympathy Being given a complimentary dinner previous to his departure for foreign climes, the guest, who was badly afflicted by stuttering, induced a friend to respond to the toast of his health for him, which he did very badly, so much so that the other rose and said: “Fo-for the fir-first time in-in my li-life I un-under-stand Balaam’s fee-feelings when his ass spo-spoke for him.” Heaven, Hell or Los Angeles A colored trooper of Camp Kearney, California, wanted to visit his sweetheart in Los Angeles, but as he couldn’t get a furlough, he decided to go A.W.O.L. The guard at the gate stopped him, and demanded to see the trooper’s pass. The black man pulled out a razor. “Brudder,” he warned, “mah mudder’s dead and am in Heaben. Mah faddah’s dead and am in Hell, but mah gal am alive and in Los Angeles. And ah’s gwine to see one of dem three tonight.” Following is a familiar conversation heard within a modern apartment building where so many home-made hooch parties are held: Voice from without: “Cut out that noise or I’ll have you put out of this flat.” Voice from within: “We should worry—we’ve been put out of better flats than this.”