Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, April 1921 · page 8 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #19 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Captain Billy's Whiz Bang* (a 1920s-era humor magazine) contains five brief anecdotes showcasing the publication's bawdy, irreverent style. The jokes rely on wordplay and misunderstanding: a lazy hobo expects a wagon wheel to light his match; the Deacon tears up the magazine for fertilizer (insulting its quality); Captain Billy is embarrassed when a young woman's request to "hold my hand" means her playing cards, witnessed by his "storm and strife" (period slang for wife); finally, a crude observation about stockings with double entendre about women's bodies. These pieces exemplify the magazine's lowbrow, anti-establishment humor targeting rural life, preachy neighbors, and respectability. The racial slur in the opening reflects the offensive casual racism common in 1920s American humor. The overall tone is male-centered comedy mocking pretension and social conventions through anecdotal tales.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
6 Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang WE’VE heard the old yarn about the lazy darky who harnessed the mule by simply standing still and commanding “Giddap” and “Whoa,” but the hobo that leaned against my wagon in Robbinsdale the other day wins the hand-painted jar. He had a match in his hand, leaning against the steel tire on my wagon wheel, his pipe unlighted. “What are you waiting for?” I asked. “Jes’ waitin’ for you to start so the wheel will light this match,” he replied. * * * GUS, the hired man, says our old-fogy neighbor, Deacon Miller, doesn’t like my literary product. Gus saw the Deacon tearing up the Whiz Bang and scattering it over his corn field the other day. “I’m using it for fertilizer,” vouchsafed the Deacon. * * * My “storm and strife” and I were recently at a little gathering. As I stood watching a whist game, a young lady—a very charming young lady—said: “Captain Billy, will you hold my hand a minute.” I obeyed with alacrity and grasped her soft white fingers, only to have her snap at me: “Sir! I meant my cards!” And my wife saw it all. * * * Nobody pays much attention to a big hole in a small girl’s stocking, but a small hole in a big girl’s stocking—Oh, my!