Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, August 1922 · page 44 of 67
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #36 — page 44: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a poem, not a cartoon, from *Captain Billy's Whiz Bang*, a satirical magazine. Edward S. Kern's verse addresses the social hypocrisy surrounding "fallen women"—a period euphemism for sex workers or women who'd lost respectability through sexual transgression. The poem gives voice to marginalized women in the "Under-World," pleading for compassion from respectable society. It critiques how the privileged judge harshly ("scornful nod," "sneer") while ignoring circumstances that led these women astray—they "stumbled early in Life's fatal race, / And was lured by the Judas-kiss." The satire targets middle-class moral superiority and indifference. The poem argues these women deserve pity, not condemnation, and invokes divine mercy as superior to human judgment. This reflects Progressive Era social reform discourse questioning Victorian sexual morality and advocating for compassion toward society's most vulnerable members.
📄 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 Plaint From the Underworld By Edward S. Kern Comes a cry from the night of the Under-World, Like the moan of a thing in pain, And it calls to the heart of the maid imperilled, And to those of the spotless name. How oft in the thick of the gathering gloom, When the curtains of night are drawn, Have the cries from the souls in some hell-lit room Surged forth till the breaking dawn. And to those who bask in the love-warmed home, And to those who have never slipped, Comes this plaint of despair that is like a groan, Hard-wrung from the scarlet lipped. "Oh, we are the folk of the Under-World, We're the queens in the realms of Shame; We were made for the sport of the soulless churl, And we barter our souls for gain. "Do you know that we dread your scornful nod Like the cut of the slashing steel, Or the stinging lash of the whip—Oh, God! Do you think that we cannot feel? "Do you give to us pity? Ah, no, instead, You say when you pass us by— ('nd this with a sneer!)'She has made her bed in the gutter—so there let her lie.' "And you never remember the hard, painted face, Once betokened the fair, blameless miss! One who stumbled early in Life's fatal race, And was lured by the Judas-kiss." So this is the tale that the night winds call— (Maid or madam, do you harken to hear ) Though lofty your station, and fearful their fall, You should lend them a listening ear. And if God's' in high heaven—if heaven's above, They pardoned will be though they fell. What if they have sinned—remember they loved, Not wisely, ah, no—but too well!