Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, December 1924 · page 43 of 71
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang #67 — page 43: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains two humorous poems from *Captain Billy's Whiz Bang*, a satirical magazine known for ribald humor and cautionary tales. **"Pipes of Folly"** is a cautionary narrative poem about romantic deception. A man falls for a woman who appears loving but abandons him, stealing his valuables. A stranger then arrives demanding payment as "Love's Piper"—a metaphorical debt collector. The moral: romantic passion leads to financial and emotional ruin, and "women" must "pay the Price of Folly." This reflects period misogyny, blaming women for men's romantic mistakes. **"Women and Matches"** extends the metaphor, comparing women to matchsticks: some fail to ignite passion, some burn dangerously (destroying the heart), and rare ones provide steadfast, reliable warmth. The poem uses working-class dialect ("sees 'em") for populist appeal. Both poems present cynical, gendered views typical of 1920s humor magazines—warning men against women while simultaneously mocking romantic idealism. The satire targets male gullibility rather than defending women's agency.
📄 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] Pipes of Folly LOVE came forth to meet me in wondrous guise, With lips like a bright scarlet flower, and eyes That held me entranced, always seeking mine, Cheering me like a rare vintage of wine; We danced to the sweet Pipes that Folly plays, Forgetting that always the dancer pays; The world seemed a ball at our dancing feet, For our passion had made life doubly sweet; Each day held rare beauty and rapture, until I awoke one morning, alone and chill. Clouds filled that dawning, as never before, When listen! A tapping upon my door. “Love has returned,” through my tears I cried! But only a Stranger was standing outside. “Who pays the Piper?” he called; “I am he. This is Love’s Pay-Day. Come; give me my fee!” But Love had forsaken me and in flight Had taken my jewels, like a thief of night, And I, now a pauper alone in the dust, Paid the Price of Folly, as women must. * * * Women and Matches Women and matches are one and the same When you’re looking about for a catch; At first when you sees ’em they looks near alike, But soon you are pickin’ your match. You’re pickin’ your match from the matchbox of life An’ some of ’em jump with a start, • That rattles your senses and gets on your nerves But ne’er lights the sparks in your heart. And some of ’em never respond to your touch, Their sulphur’s a mixture of glass; An’ some of ’em jump with a shower of sparks That shatters your heart as they pass. But some of ’em’s true as the heaven is blue, Who burn with an undying flame, That brightens your life to the end of your days And makes your tomorrows the same. [38]