Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, August 1921 · page 44 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #23 — page 44: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains three humorous poems with no visible cartoons or illustrations. The content reflects early 20th-century satirical themes: **"There's a homestead..."** warns against gambling ("the dealer gets it all"), using a Maine setting with tropical imagery suggesting casinos or vice operations drawing money away. **"Oh, Happy Existence"** presents a domestic complaint: a tom cat's nighttime courtship antics disturb the narrator's sleep. The humor lies in the speaker's envy of the cat's freedom to enjoy "long evenings out"—a subtle commentary on marital constraints and gender roles, where the speaker wishes for the cat's bachelor liberty. **"Beware, Girls"** is a cautionary poem warning women about deceitful lovers who pursue conquest but abandon partners once they've achieved intimacy, comparing men to hidden serpents. This reflects period anxieties about seduction and female vulnerability. Overall, the page combines cynical humor about gambling, domestic life, and romantic relationships—typical subjects for *Whiz Bang*, a magazine known for ribald, satirical content aimed at post-WWI male readers.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
42 Captain Billy's Whiz Bang There's a homestead down in an old Maine town And the lilacs 'round the gate, And the night winds whisper it might have been But the truth has come too late. For whenever you play, whatever the way, For stakes that are large or small, The claw of the tropics gathers it in, And the dealer gets it all. * * * Oh, Happy Existence The tom cat walketh on the fence And calleth to his mate; Oh, would that he would hie him hence When he has got a date. He cometh when my eyelids close, To keep his moonlit tryst, And rouses me from my sweet repose, To pray that he'll desist 'Tis true the tom cat grives me sore When he doth prowl around; But would that I, like he, got more Of those long evenings out. * * * Beware, Girls Lovers are the most devoted where they least expect to wed. All they seek is cruel conquest, and when hearts are made to yield, They forsake the broken fortress and besiege another field. They are like the crafty serpent coiled beneath the fairest flower, Till the butterfly or the hum-bird falls within its deadly power.