Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, June 1922 · page 15 of 68
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #34 — page 15: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page from the satirical magazine contains no political cartoons—just humorous prose and verse. The content reflects the magazine's rural, folksy humor style. The opening poem presents a philosophical monologue about life's ups and downs, concluding that despite all experiences, one returns to their starting point. The anecdotes that follow are domestic humor: a reference to Arctic explorer Vilhjalmur Stefansson (a real historical figure) for naming kittens, and a slapstick rural story about Deacon Callahan being kicked by his donkey and his wife's rescue attempt interrupted by a new farm worker's arrival. The humor relies on rural settings, practical farm life mishaps, and working-class characters. There's no apparent political satire—just lighthearted storytelling typical of American humor magazines from the early 20th century.
📄 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 13 And, as regards my enemies, I'll meet them all in hell! I have risen up and fallen, I have been both good and bad; I have made some tidy fortunes, And I've squandered all I've had; I have drunk my pint of sorrow, I have ate my peck of fun; So, when I come to think it out, And all is said and done, It strikes an even balance I am just where I begun. * * * The next time our Persian cat hauls in a load of wee kitties, I intend calling on my old townsman, Viljalmer Stefanson, Arctic ex- plorer, for suggestions in the way of names. It is my understanding that Mr. Stefanson is thoroughly familiar with North Pole cats and we are located far enough north this summer to come within an Eskimo designation. * * * OUR second neighbor down the road, Dea- con Callahan, owns a tough little jack- ass that he uses for cultivator purposes. While feeding the animal the other morning, the "jack" became rantankerous and kicked Callahan to the ground. Missus Callahan an- swered his call for help and grabbed onto a single-tree on her way to the barnyard. She had driven the donkey away and was leaning over the prostrate form of her husband, when Olaf, my new farm-hand, turned the corner of the Callahan barn to borrow a corn planter. "What's happened here?" inquired Olaf.