Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, March 1922 · page 40 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #31 — page 40: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from *Whiz Bang*, a post-WWI American humor magazine, contains six brief comedic sketches targeting social conventions and masculinity anxieties of the 1920s. **Key satirical points:** - **"Depot Man"**: Mourns an empty beer keg—Prohibition-era commentary on alcohol deprivation. - **Marriage exchanges**: Mock hypocrisy in relationships; the woman claims to have "earned" money through marriage. - **Truck Driver/Barber**: Mocks working-class masculine anxiety about appearing effeminate (refusing powder/cosmetics). - **City/Outskirts pun**: Wordplay on "Bustle" (corset garment) versus urban congestion. - **Home Run**: Absurdist humor about a man streaking home in underwear after clothing theft. - **"Mess" (military dining)**: A soldier torn between homesickness and army food, using romantic language to describe beans—satirizing both military life and sentimental patriotism. The humor targets Prohibition, gender norms, working-class identity, and military experience—contemporary concerns for the magazine's readership.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
38 Captain Billy's Whiz Bang Memories of the Depot Man Down on a depot platform, Bathed in the bleak wintry breeze, Shy long ago of its contents, With nothing inside it to freeze; Shy long ago of its contents, Drained of its last amber dreg, Bungless and beerless and friendless, Stands an empty eight gallon keg. * * * She—You married me for love and got it. Old Foggie—You married me for money and got it. She—I'll tell the world I earned it. * * * Truck Driver to Barber Don't put any of that powder on my face, see! What ya tink I am, a sissie? * * * A fashion magazine reminds us that one way to get away from the city Bustle is to move to the Outskirts. * * * A Home Run While swimming someone stole his clothes, so he painted a number on his B. V. D.'s and ran home like a track man. * * * Line Up For Mess, Boys Cora, Cora, I adore you, And for home I hate to start, But the beans are ready, Cora, And the best of friends must part.