Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, March 1922 · page 63 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #31 — page 63: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from the satirical magazine consists of brief humorous observations and verses rather than visual cartoons. The content targets several early-20th-century social anxieties: **"Something to Worry About"** mocks body image concerns—the notion that overweight men maintain perfectly creased trousers is absurdly unrealistic. **"Broadway's Leg Lane"** criticizes modern women's fashion (likely 1920s flapper styles), lamenting short, tight skirts that supposedly turn Fifth Avenue into a display comparable to burlesque theaters. It nostalgically contrasts this with "Beauty and Nick" (likely a film), depicting an idealized modest woman. **"These Were the Good Old Days"** uses ironic nostalgia, comparing past entertainment (paying to see a donkey) to present amusements, suggesting modern culture is equally ridiculous. **The Sol/Lysol/Ingersoll jokes** are puns playing on product names and brand recognition. **"Torch Pulls This One"** is a standard proverb variation. The page presents social commentary through wordplay rather than visual satire, typical of Whiz Bang's irreverent humor style.
📄 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 61 Something to Worry About Among the things you read about but never see is a crease in a fat man's trousers. * * * “Along the Road” I walked a mile with Pleasure; She chattered all the way, But left me none the wiser For all she had to say. I walked a mile with Sorrow And ne’er a word said she; But oh, the things I learned from her When Sorrow walked with me! * * * Broadway’s Leg Lane (From New York Times) HOMELESS HUSBANDS—If you want a friend, a pal—a WIFE!—look for one like the Lonely Lady in BEAUTY AND NICK. Such as she is rarely to be found in this the age of sex and shekels—surely not in the endless procession of poppy-painted dames and damsels, young as youth, wrinkled as an O’Shanter witch; all with skirts so tight as to make them goat-gaited; so short that these bogus beauties have turned the most beautiful Avenue of the world into a mere leg lane—a free rival of the sash-clad ladies of a Broadway burlesque. * * * These Were the Good Old Days “Step up, boys! Ladies not allowed! See for yourself. And we all paid the two bits and saw a jackass.” * * * Let me introduce myself. My name is Sol. Any relation to Lysol? No, Ingersoll. Watch me! * * * Torch Pulls This One It’s a long road that has no roadhouse.