Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, December 1924 · page 39 of 71
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #67 — page 39: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a bawdy parody of Tennyson's "Charge of the Light Brigade," mocking Jazz Age entertainment and sexual permissiveness. The poem celebrates a chorus line of scantily-dressed young women ("the Ballet o' Babes") performing for an audience of older, wealthy men ("baldies," "bald-domed billionaires"). The satire targets multiple things: the spectacle and moral concern surrounding 1920s cabaret dancing; the older generation's disapproval mixed with eager patronage ("Surely, we always said, Blue laws had blundered"); and the transactional nature of entertainment ("Send them Ritz bill-of-fares"). The final couplet about "Grandpa in a motor car" reinforces the theme of aging men behaving recklessly in the modern era. It's mocking both the dancers' exploitation and bourgeois hypocrisy about vice.
📄 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] Charge of the Leg Brigade CALF o' leg, calf o' leg, calf o' leg, onward. Enter, the Ballet o' Babes, prancing swell hundred. Smash! goes the jazzy brass. Gosh! they're a shapeful class, Onward, the Ballet o' Babes, shapish swell hundred. Forward the Babe Ballet, never was gang so gay, (Surely, we always said, Blue laws had blundered). Flash! 'Tis the yellow spot, gilding the leggy lot, Into the Valley of Gold, dance the swell hundred. Baldies to right of them, baldies to left of them, Baldies in front of them, hollered and thundered. Rooters begin to yell, Babies kick down the bell, Into the jazz men's hell, looped the swell hundred. Dashed in their dimples bare, to each orchestra chair, Grabbed off a baldy there, while the house wondered. Plunged thru Havana smoke, right down the aisle they broke Backward they swung the men, prancing swell hundred. Baldies to right of them, baldies to left of them, Baldies surrounding them, hollered and thundered, Rooters increased the yell (some of the old dubs fell), Little clothes left on them, pranced the swell hundred. When can their glory fade? O, the wild charge they made! Every one wonders. Send them Ritz bill-of-fares, you bald-domed billionaires! Shell out the old "mazum," feed that swell hundred! * * * Grandpa in a motor car Pushed the lever back too far. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, Music by the G. A. R. [34]