Chapter II: Part 2

Only a short ride from ’Frisco,
On a rock resting out in the sea;
A dungeon for “soldier convicts—”
The home of the U. S. D. B.

There we lay on our bed of hard metal,
And think of our life among men,
Ever wishing our life was far distant,
Or could be lived over again.

The death-colored chambers of madness,
Where all rights are evermore gone;
Oh, is there no chance for freedom,
Will we never again see the dawn?

To be beaten and thrown in a dungeon,
Where the eyes of mankind are blind;
To be left for dead in this hell-hole of dread,
Eternally losing your mind.

So, hear the cries from the “big-house,”
From the souls who go down in the strife,
Where souls are evermore striving
And thrown by the wayside of life.

Oh, list to the cry from the inmates;
Assist in this hour that is blue,
For the ones who are good and the ones who are bad
Are as good or as bad as you.

* * * * *

_I was born in the spring, I died in the fall,_
_But I won’t tell St. Peter, I lived in St. Paul._

* * * * *

Dusty Holden’s Filosophy

This life is but a game of cards,
Which every one must learn.
Each shuffles, deals and cuts the deck
And then a trump does turn;
Some show up a high card,
While others make it low,
And many turn no cards at all—
In fact, they cannot show.

When hearts are up, we play for love
And pleasure rules the hour,
Each day goes pleasantly along,
In sunshine’s rosy bower.
When diamonds chance to crown the pack,
That’s when men stake their gold,
And thousands then are lost and won,
By gamblers, young and old.

When clubs are trump, look out for war,
On ocean and on land,
For bloody deeds are often done,
When clubs are held in hand.
At last up turns the darkened spade,
Held by the toiling slave,
And a spade will turn up trump at last,
And dig each player’s grave.

* * * * *

Department Store Gossip

“Lizzie went out with that floorwalker clown,
She said he was filled full of booze
And made her get out and walk back to town,
But there wasn’t no mud on her shoes.

“Far be it from me to run a girl down,
Mistakes I will always excuse,
But when one declares she walked back to town
I look for the mud on her shoes.”

* * * * *

“Fifi” Stillman’s Lullaby

Rock-a-bye baby, little Jay Leeds,
Daddy has women more than he needs;
Through a divorce I’ll get lots of cash,
Because your dear daddy was a little too rash.

* * * * *

The Poppy’s Answer

_Publication in the May issue of the Whiz Bang of “In Flanders Fields” has brought many requests for “The Poppy’s Answer,” and thus, by special permission of the author, we offer it herein._

By D. H. Winget

In Flanders fields we poppies grow,
That all the passing world may know
We herald peace—surcease of pain,
For those who fought now live again,
Not in cold stone or mortal arts,
But in the depth of loving hearts,
We bloom afresh above our dead,
Our blossoms deck our hero’s bed
In Flanders fields.

Our Father called us into bloom,
To deck and shield each soldier’s tomb
To bask and glint in glory’s stream,
And fashion every soldier’s dream,
As ’neath our roots he sweetly sleeps,
Each poppy true her vigil keeps,
And gently to the breeze she yields
Her soothing breath
In Flanders fields.

* * * * *

The Girl In the Garden

She lifts her skirts from danger,
With her left hand, while her right
Grasps the nozzle, and the stranger
Gets a very shocking sight.

The neighbors gaze with rapture,
And their interest daily grows,
For they like to see her sprinkle,
And they like to watch the hose.

* * * * *

His eyelids closed, his breath came fast,
His eager lips met hers;
They parted ere the week had passed—
She had a set of furs.

* * * * *

Past, Present and Future

You’ve heard the tale of Daphne of a hundred years ago?
You haven’t? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s a thing you ought to know.
Though pretty smart at most things (for her age was seventeen)
She didn’t know the proper way to wear a crinoline.
For instance, when the winter winds came tearing through the town
She made the most ridiculous attempts to hold it down;
And thus it was that often as she tacked across the street
The people got a view of her that wasn’t only feet.

You’ve heard, of course, the story of the Daphne of today?
You haven’t? Well, I’ll tell you. It’s funny in a way.
In spite of all the teachings of the Grundies and the Prims,
She hasn’t yet discovered how to cover up her limbs.
For instance, though the crinoline perplexes her no more,
She’s in the same predicament, precisely, as before.
And when she’s sprinting for a bus, with little time to lose,
The people get a view of her that isn’t only shoes.

I hate, of course, to moralize, to lecture or to prate,
But troubles have their ending if the troubled only wait;
And probably, if Daphne’s good, and patient as a saint,
The skirt will pass to savages, and she will have their paint;
And that will keep its proper place, whate’er her attitude,
And satisfy the conscience of the most exacting prude—
Unless a rainstorm comes along that nothing does by halves,
And then we’ll get a view of her that won’t be only calves!

—A. B. M.

* * * * *

The Pleasure Pier

(Ocean Park, California)

One night as I strolled on the sand,
The hour of twelve was near,
By chance my wandering footsteps led
Me underneath the pier.
Ye Gods! the people I saw that night,
As I strolled along my way;
Behind each piling they ’rose like ghosts
And silently faded away.
I saw there men, and women, too;
And friends I held most dear,
And I turned and fled (for I wasn’t alone),
As I strolled beneath the pier.

* * * * *

Jeu D’Amour

By Enid R. Clay

March winds were blowing when we met—
(And so the game was started)
You blew a breath of love to me
That left me broken-hearted.

June roses scented all the air—
(The game seemed so worth winning).
Their glory mingled with your kiss,
And never thought it sinning.

And still for some the March winds blow,
And roses perish never;
For all my play—and some must lose—
Forever and forever.

* * * * *

Christmas at the Workhouse

It was Christmas at the workhouse,
And the convicts gathered there.
They were sitting at the table,
Partaking of their fare,
When the warden quietly entered,
And he shouted through the cells,
“Merry Christmas, good old convicts,”
And the convicts answered “Bells.”

Now this made the warden angry,
And he swore by all the Gods,
“You shall have no Christmas pudding.
You’re a dang big bunch of slobs.”
Then spoke the oldest convict,
With a voice that was not pure,
“Just take that Christmas pudding,
And shove it in the sewer.”

—By Dan Moriarty.

* * * * *

Underneath the Barroom Floor

’Twas a balmy summer evening
And a goodly crowd was there
But it wasn’t in the barroom
For the barrooms now are bare.

* * * * *

The Maiden’s Lament

_That Perkins’ boy is awfully slow_
_Parley vou._
_That Perkins’ boy is awfully slow_
_Parley vou._

_That Perkins’ boy is awfully slow_
_He believes me when I tell him “no.”_
_Hinkey dinkey parley vou._

* * * * *

A Lady’s Query

By W. D. Nesbit

Is it ladylike to giggle?
Is it ladylike to wink?
Is it ladylike to ride a horse a-straddle?
Is it ladylike to wiggle?
Is it ladylike to drink?
Is it ladylike upon the beach to paddle?

Is it ladylike to mutter?
Is it ladylike to stare?
Is it ladylike to do those fancy dances?
Is it ladylike to sputter?
Is it ladylike to swear?
Is it ladylike to use expressive glances?

Is it ladylike to gurgle?
Is it ladylike to joke?
Is it ladylike to boast of being wealthy?
Is it ladylike to burgle?
Is it ladylike to smoke?
Is it ladylike to know that you are healthy?

Is it ladylike to shiver?
Is it ladylike to weep?
Is it ladylike to walk through forests shady?
Is it ladylike to quiver?
Is it ladylike to peep?
Is it ladylike to be a little lady?

_Budd’s Bundle of Bunk_

BY BUDD L. McKILLIPS

“My,” said the old lady after her first night auto ride into the country, “the people who fix automobiles will make a lot of money tomorrow. Every few blocks there was a car standing with nobody around it. It was so dark that I couldn’t see if they were smashed up, but I guess the people must have walked back to town.”

* * * * *

Omar Up To Date

What is it the bootlegger buys
One-half so vicious as the stuff he sells?

* * * * *

Blank Verse

EMIL ASKED CLARA
TO TAKE
A WALK WITH HIM
AND PICK FLOWERS,
BUT
CLARA’S BROTHER
CAME ALONG,
AND SO
THEY PICKED FLOWERS.

* * * * *

Mrs. Bloolaw laid down her newspaper with an angry snort. “I see where they are talking about reviving the ‘Passion Play’; another of those disgraceful shows, I suppose.”

* * * * *

“How much,” asked John Burroughs in his daily Nature column, “does it cost to set a tree out in the street?”

Some festive friends of ours set a bartender out in the street in the days B. P. and if memory is correct it cost them $10 and costs.

* * * * *

“People Who Ride in Our Car Never Have to Walk Back Home” advertises a St. Louis automobile agency. The girl in the house next door says a hat pin gives her the same assurance.

* * * * *

If there’s one secluded spot
That I would like to own
And fence about, ’tis that small plot
Where my wild oats were sown.

* * * * *

She asked him if he’d take a seat,
But he, his blushes hiding,
Replied that he preferred to stand,
For he’d been horseback riding.

* * * * *

The porcupine may have his quills,
The elephant his trunk,
But when it comes to common scents
My money’s on the skunk.

_Film Feast Fights_

_Ah! Now the dainty damsels of the screen have the excitement
for which their artistic temperaments crave! For the
edification of the filmland folk, Los Angeles hotels have
introduced the prize fight as a dinner attraction, partly
supplanting the dinner dansant, and here we have diminutive
Bebe Daniels cavorting at one of these film fight feasts,
rubbing elbows with effete Kid McCoy, whose barefoot partner,
as Richmond states, put on her shoes and walked out._

Society prize fights are the latest in Los Angeles and Pasadena. The winter tourists, society people and so on have fallen. Didn’t Anne Morgan set the example in New York? Main dining rooms have been turned into prize rings, where, during a lull in the supper dance, the fighters, their seconds, water bottles, cuspidors and other necessary adjuncts are led forth.

No, prizefighters don’t generally have cuspidors; they generally spit in the water bucket or on the floor; anyhow, they spit. They can’t help it.

The swell hotels of Pasadena and Los Angeles already have staged their preliminary fistic functions. There is no bunc about the fights, at least so far as appearance and appurtenances are concerned. The men wear regulation ring clothes and, as everyone knows, this means they can’t wear much more than most of the women present, who shriek with delight and false alarm at the thud of brawny fists on hairy breasts and bloody noses.

Whiz Bang is not long-haired, consequently can’t be against a good boxing contest or a fight, whatever it is they call them. But one may entertain an opinion that some things were meant for men and if there is anything a man is better fitted for, or can do better, than women, for heaven’s sake let him do it.

The Alexandria-Alec, as it popularly is known, initiated the fad in this burg. The society editors must have been there for one thing, judging from elite galaxy of names which appeared next day.

Kid McCoy also was there, appearing somewhat better in his tux than most of the non-athletic looking gentlemen present. The Kid emerged recently from his ninth (or was it his fifteenth?) matrimonial experiment. He married a dancer of the films, a bare-footed one. But evidently she put on her shoes and walked out.

The literary lights were somewhat in evidence. Guy Price, Eddie Moriarity and H. M. Walker, with the assumed or naturally bored air that seems to mark the popular newspaper sporting writers, were taking in the innovation or being innovated in the taking in, whichever it was. Moriarity and Walker said who won the fights and from their dour looks one would never judge they write funny titles for Semon and Lloyd.

Tom Mix jumped into the ring as referee. Those who watched paid well for it. But there was dinner, of course, and a dance, thrown in.

Bebe Daniels was one of the first on the floor. Not that Bebe seemed overly excited about it. But the proud looking young man who trotted her out seemed not without fear that his appearance with the fair Bebe might be overlooked if he didn’t get an early start upon the ball room boards.

But Bebe was worth looking at; incidentally, one of the few modest looking women on the floor. They say she is stuck up. They say that about most of the really stellar female attractions of the screen. But the insider opines that Bebe’s bored look combines a sense of humor and the common sense of a young girl who finds that the glitter and night adulation are mostly 18 carat bunc. Yet Bebe danced and danced.

As we have said before, society doesn’t know what to do about the picture stars, especially if they are starettes. But to miss seeing them, so one can talk about what they wore and whom they were with, that would be ultra ignoramus, as one might aptly say. Just what a bunch of supposedly high bred society women, Miss Morgan to the contrary, can see in the spectacle of two men slamming each other around the ring passeth, no doubt, some portion of the male element.

Sounds like we are getting sermony. Far be it from us. There are worse things than women in evening garb gushing over mostly naked men fighting in the main dining room of our swell hotels.

One thing about Mary and Doug.; they are fairly exclusive. Some of the younger stars might do well to emulate them. Yet, perhaps before a star becomes a luminous planet it must do its sparkle; cast its lesser light, until the fact that it does not glow at every gay party can cause more comment than the mere presence, thereat, would cause.

Mary and Doug. are becoming more talked of because they stay home than because they step out. Of course, Mary and Doug. have something to chat of among themselves again, now that Nevada is talking marriage annulment again.

We still remain firm in our predictions of months ago that Nevada has more talk than annulment in her system, so far as the Fairbanks family is concerned.

* * * * *

An Arkansas Honeymoon

A young, newly married couple boarded a through train, bound for Little Rock to spend the honeymoon. The young man at once began looking for the Pullman conductor, it being a night train. Finally he found that official and began: “Say, Mister, me an’ my wife here just got married an’ we want the best ’commodations you’ve got on this train.”

“You are looking for a berth, I presume?” queried the conductor.

“Thunderation! No!” shouted the irate groom. “Didn’t I tell you that me an’ my wife just got married?”

* * * * *

A London man who went to Dublin to join the Royal Irish Constabulary was arrested as insane. In view of the present condition of Ireland the evidence against him seems conclusive.

_Pasture Pot Pourri_

Yoo-Hoo! Skinny! C’mon over, ’n bring your own bottle.

* * * * *

There was an old man from Trenton,
Who gnashed his false teeth till he Bentem;
When asked what he’d lost, and what they had cost,
He replied: “I don’t know, I just Rentem.”

* * * * *

OPEN YOUR MOUTH AND LET THE MOONSHINE IN.

* * * * *

Never miss anything that’s been saved.

* * * * *

It’s better to be brought up on a bottle than to be brought down by one.

* * * * *

A small boy’s idea of greatness is to be able to lick another boy a size larger.

* * * * *

_Lip to lip_
_Nose to nose,_
_Flippety flop,_
_Away she goes._

* * * * *

When your good home brew is old and cold,
Call me up and revive my soul.

* * * * *

Story for the Children

Oh, chase me, kid, I’m a lollypop!
Aw, g’wan, d’yuh think I’m an all-day sucker.

* * * * *

Would You?

_I would if I could, but I can’t;_
_I wish I could, but I can’t;_
_’Twill do me no good to think_
_What I’d do if I could;_
_I might, but I probably shan’t._

* * * * *

Irate Father: Dorothy, has that young man gone yet?

No, but I’ve got him going.

* * * * *

Second Stanza

Getting married:
Meet me at eleven and by twelve we’ll be one.
Getting divorced:
Meet me at twelve and by one we’ll be two.

* * * * *

A raisin in wine saves time.

* * * * *

Famous Army Songs

The Larger the Spoon the Louder the Noise.

* * * * *

Gus, our hired man, says he was engaged to a girl who had a wooden leg, but he broke it off.

* * * * *

Latest Popular Song

“Babes in the Wood,” by James A. Stillman.

_Classified Ads_

Want One, Girls?

(From Minneapolis Journal.)

“For Sale—1920 Mormon chummy.”

* * * * *

There Must Be a Reason

(From the Warren, Ohio, Tribune.)

Wanted—Gentleman I spent Sunday evening with to write me at my address in the office where I am employed. I couldn’t act different from what I did.—Dot.

* * * * *

Chicago Has Preferences

(From Chicago Tribune)

To Rent—Studio apartment with private bath; married couple preferred. 58 E. Elm Street.

* * * * *

Oak Cliff’s Secret

(From Dallas Dispatch)

Lost—Monday, in Oak Cliff, one Spencer corset, slightly used. Suitable reward.

* * * * *

Here’s An Easy Job!

(From Tampa Times)

Wanted—Gas engine man on twin party boat. Little pay, lots of fun, no work. Phone 71-042.

* * * * *

Sodaeye, Do You?

“Give me a plain soda without any flavor.”

“What kind of flavor would you like it without?”

“Oh! I’d like it without vanilla flavor.”

“Sorry, sir! I’m out of vanilla. You will have to have it without chocolate, sir.”

* * * * *

Where They Rattle

Two little girls were playing on the street and a well-dressed lady passed them with swish and a whirl. By the noise it was evident that she wore a silk petticoat. “What makes that noise?” whispered one little girl, with a wondering look. “Sh!” said the other child, in a low voice, “don’t you know she’s got money? Rich folks always rattle and smell good.”

* * * * *

Frank Lynn’s Dope

When skirts and waist lines meet as one,
’Twill be as when the world begun,
And in fig leaves again we’ll roam,
And wonder still why the men leave home.

* * * * *

The Anti-Cigarette Crusaders

“I can’t understand how men can put those nasty pipes and cigarettes to their lips,” she mourned, and then bent to kiss the little bundle of life in her lap. And the poodle dog, sympathizing, snuggled closer against its mistress’ swan-like neck and wagged its little tail.

_Our Rural Mail Box_

=Smokehouse Friends=—Ye editor has received many calls for the following poems, and would appreciate receipt of correct copies of them: “Johnnie and Frankie,” “Arkansaw” and the prose of the Irishman lecturing with lantern slides the story of Cleopatra.

* * * * *

=Anna Dine=—Snow again, Anna, I don’t get your drift.

* * * * *

=Mickey Finn=—There is nothing to the rumor that the girls will wear blacksmiths’ aprons for bathing suits this summer.

* * * * *

=Howe Hevah=—“The Skin Game” is not the name of a play. It is a profession indulged in by beauty doctors.

* * * * *

=Mac=—If the brass finger bowls are not large enough, would suggest that bushel baskets be used.

* * * * *

=Shimmy Dancer=—If you do, we’ll take off our jumper and overhalls.

* * * * *

=Kitty Korn=—I can’t place you, but I knew your father, Pop Korn.

* * * * *

He Led in Prayer

An old railroad man was converted, as the story goes, and was asked to lead in prayer. Here is the way he worked it: “Oh, Lord, now that I have flagged Thee, lift my feet off the rough road of life and plant them safely on the deck of the train of salvation. Let me use the safety lamp known as prudence; make all couplings in the train with the strong link of Thy love. And, Heavenly Father, keep all switches closed that lead off to sidings, especially those with a blind end. Oh, Lord, if it be Thy pleasure, have every semaphore block along the line show the white line of hope, that I may make the run of life without stopping. And, Lord, give us the Ten Commandments as a schedule time, and when my train shall have pulled into the great, dark station of Death, may Thou, the Superintendent of the Universe, say with a smile: ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant; come up and sign the payroll and receive your check for eternal happiness.’”

* * * * *

A Robbinsdale Salad

A young chicken, undressed; a little pep; lettuce.

* * * * *

Just Like Old Crow

Once again the husband came staggering home late.

“Oh, John, have you been drinking again?” sobbed his wife as she caught a whiff of beer.

“No, dearie; you wronged me; I’ve been eatin’ frogsh’ legsh, and you smell the hops.”

_It Pays to Advertise_

BY OXNARD PETE

It isn’t necessary to read magazine stories any more. The editor tells you all about them in “eye catchers” at the beginning. They read like this:

“_Mary’s Garter_,” by R. Ubberneck. A snappy and re-elastic love story that stretches the imagination to the breaking point. No “honi soit” stuff here.

“_100 to 1_,” by N. O. Chance. A race track story. Like a gambler’s watch chain, it has a “charm” that holds the eye.

“_Frozen Tears_,” by P. North Poole. Returning, after years spent in the far north, John Snow’s wife gives him a cold welcome. He finds that Eskimo maidens may have cold feet, but warm hearts. A tale of polar bears, whale blubber, seal blubber and plain blubber.

Don’t fail to read “_Way Down Yeast_,” by Holmes Brewer, in our next issue. Mr. Brewer’s stories are as funny as a barrel of monkey wrenches; his wit as spontaneous as a fire sale in Goldstein’s clothing store. And as unique as a drink of real whiskey.

“_Down in the Deep_,” by Professor U. Drinkwater. A scientific article on the peculiarities of the Zoanatharia actina, mesembryanthemum, tealia crassicornis and other anemones. Too deep for any one but a highbrow to wade through.

“_Lucy’s Looseness_,” by E. Strong Onion. A story with a smile, some tears, and seeming to breathe throughout, the fragrance of old Bermuda.

* * * * *

The Way with Men

By Warford Frederick.

A sweet
Conceit
Is its own excuse,
I think, don’t you?
I hope you do.
Two neat,
Small feet
And a shoestring loose.
I bend, don’t you,
Before that shoe?
One glance at the shoe and two at the silk,
And an ankle showing as white as milk;
And I tie a knot that will slip again!
For that is ever the way with men.

* * * * *

It is a rare man, girls, who shakes the furnace as he shakes his shoulders.

* * * * *

Verily much Mazuma goeth over the bar the cash register knoweth not of.

* * * * *

There are lots of men who treat tomorrow and treat yesterday, but never treat today.

_Jest Jokes and Jingles_

That Girl You Lost!

Long though a man recalls the achievements of his life, yet it is quite often the little things he failed to achieve that linger longest in his memory; even after he has forgotten her name and whether her eyes were brown or blue.

* * * * *

The Garbage Blues

_Rocks in the mountains,_
_Fish in the sea,_
_A garbage man’s daughter_
_Made a dump out of me._

* * * * *

Remorse

Those dry martinis were too much for me.
Last night at twelve I felt immense,
Today, I feel like thirty cents.
But it is a poor time for mirth and laughter,
The cold, gray dawn of the morning after.

* * * * *

_I went to a dance with a girl named Nora,_
_We danced and we danced on the floor-a,_
_I heard a rip, and I knew by chance_
_That Nora had lost her desire to dance._

* * * * *

A Modern Man’s Prayer

Oh, please, give me a woman who can make real beer.

* * * * *

It’s all right to shoot the bull provided you don’t give a bum steer.

* * * * *

A Sun Dodger

They sat in the park, out there in the dark,
And the chaperone thought it quite shocking;
She found ’em all right, for she saw in the night,
The radium clock on each stocking.

* * * * *

We Clipped This

(From Fayetteville Press.)

Shore is tough these days, to try to tell a girl a good joke and have her say: “Never mind, I read Whiz Bang myself.”

* * * * *

It wasn’t the drink that killed poor John,
Nor a sight that took his breath,
But he read a Whiz Bang, so ’tis said,
And laughed himself to death.

* * * * *

An Alabam’ Ad

Wanted—Boy for bakery. Must come well bred, an early riser, born in the yeast, a good mixer and will get his dough every Saturday night.

* * * * *

_When Phyllis lets me tie her shoe_
_My glad heart sings. Indeed,_
_I do declare, I wouldn’t care_
_Were she a centipede._

* * * * *

Rosy Roses of Army Daze

A Camp Dix, N. J., “shave-tail” was giving his men a talk on personal hygiene. Finishing his verbal exploitation, he said: “ ... and men, profit by my example; when I finish drilling in the afternoon, the first thing I do is to take a bath and shave; then, when I retire I feel rosy and cheerful.” Whereupon one of his disciples emerged from the ranks with his hand raised to a salute, saying: “Beg pardon, lieutenant, but we ain’t got any Rosy.”

* * * * *

There was a young person named Willy
Whose actions were what you’d call silly;
He went to a ball,
Dressed in nothing at all,
Pretending to represent Chili.

* * * * *

Prohibition Proverbs

No brew venture, no brew have.

Empty flask never won fair lady.

A case in the cellar is worth two in the brewery.

Much falls between the hip and the lip.

He that reckons without his cellar must reckon again.

A fool’s flask is soon empty.

As you brew so shall you be respected.

One good sip deserves another.

If you drink before you try, you may repent before you die.

* * * * *

Some Female Types

The Alarm Clock Type—Shrill voice, large hands and a plain face.

The Wrist Watch Type—Small framed, handsomely embellished; very erratic.

The Mantel-piece Type—Pretty features, with nothing reliable behind them.

The Big Ben Type—Hardest to face in the morning.

The Wall Type—Very fancy, having a good swing, and goes “Cuckoo” without attention.

The Eight-day Type—Steady and reliable, but, once started, stops for nothing less than an axe.

The Ingersoll Type—Goes through fire, flood, famine and earthquake without changing in constancy, yet, once lost, its owner doesn’t think it worth the price of an advertisement.

* * * * *

The big girls who have little brothers,
Who always run and tell their mothers
Whate’er they hear and see, know well
In life ’tis little things that tell.

* * * * *

A pretty girl jumps to the conclusion that every man she meets wants to kiss her. And the wonder of it all is that she is right.

* * * * *

Circumstantial

Hattie—Do you think he loves her?

Mattie—My dear, I know it. I saw them come out of the study after the last dance, and her hair was a sight!—Williams Purple Cow.

* * * * *

Sweethearts a la Carte

By Jane Gaites.

Tommy was a butcher,
He had a cutting way.
Johnny was a burglar,
For he stole my heart away.
Jimmie was a cowboy,
He roped me in for fair.
Dick was an aviator,
So I bade him take the air.
Teddy was a sailor,
He bought my ring on sale.
Jerry was a beer fiend,
It makes me turn quite pale.
A tennis champ was Nicky,
But his racket made me sick.
Then came red-haired Georgie,
And he surely was a brick.
Jackie was a card sharp,
He often held my hand.
But give me Bill,
He’s just a bear—
Oh, boy, he hugs so grand!

* * * * *

Eat less, breathe more.
Talk less, think more.
Ride less, walk more.
Worry less, work more.
Clothe less, bathe more.
Waste less, give more.
Preach less, practice more.

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World Famous Art Pictures

=“WORLD FAMOUS ART PICTURES”= in book album, size 8 × 11, handsomely cloth bound, containing 350 photographic reproductions of masterpieces by the world’s greatest artists. The various pictures of the nude, semi-nude, single figures, and groups comprise the largest collection of nude female, male and child subjects ever published in a single volume, and the most complete work of its kind in existence. Printed on heavy enamel paper, in double toned gravures. Weight five pounds. Price =$7.50= per copy. Shipped by express only.

=“STUDIES OF THE HUMAN FIGURE.”= A beautiful imported book, size 6 × 9, containing 78 full page plates, comprising 108 photographic studies from life of the female, male and child subjects, in the nude, with Anatomical Diagrams and Artists’ Studies in all mediums. In artistic ornamental binding. Price =$10.00= per copy. Shipped by express.

=“ALO STUDIES.”= The first edition of Alo Nude Studies published in book form, size 5 × 8, just off the press. Printed in an edition de luxe, with thirty-two full page illustrations and forepiece in elaborate color plates. In these compositions the purity and charm of the nude has been blended amid the luxuriant settings of nature, imparting a divine expression of beauty. A collection of beautiful nudes in book form. Price =$2.00= per copy.

=“WHO’S WHO ON THE SCREEN.”= For Motion Picture Fans. Contains 424 pages of beautiful photographs and complete biographies of all the Stars in Screenland. A full page is devoted to each star! Artistically printed on finest coated paper; handsomely bound in Navy Blue Shantung cloth with splendid three-color jacket. Postpaid to any address in the world for =$3.50=.

=“MOVIE”= Souvenir Playing Cards. This pack is a veritable picture gallery of the celebrities of the “Movie Stage.” The faces show fifty-three beautiful half-tone portraits of the “WORLD’S GREATEST MOTION PICTURE STARS.” The pack has regular Playing Card Indexes, 52 Cards and Joker. Highly enameled, flexible, with a high slip and beautiful ivory finish, which makes it a delight to handle. Gold edged cards in handsome telescope cases. Price =$1.00= per pack, prepaid.

Remit by money order or bank draft. Shipment made within twenty-four hours after receipt of order.

THE AMERICAN ART COMPANY
Wholesale and Retail
JANESVILLE, WISCONSIN, U. S. A.

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GENUINE PHOTOGRAPHS

We are headquarters for photographs and pictures of all kinds, offering the most complete line in the country.

Catalogue “A,” 1921 edition, now ready. Contains illustrations
of 409 Nude and Semi-Nude, 304 Bathing Girl, 192 Movie Star and
49 Statuary Photographs. More than 1,000 illustrations in all.
Shipped by PREPAID EXPRESS. Price =$1.00= per copy.

25 Art Nude Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike $2.00
25 Semi-Nude Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 2.00
50 Art Nude Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 3.00
50 Semi-Nude Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 3.00
100 Art Nude and Semi-Nude, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 5.00

12 Semi-Nude Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike $1.00
16 Statuary Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 1.00
20 Bathing Girl Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 1.00
20 Movie Star Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 1.00
50 Bathing Girl Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 2.50
50 Movie Star Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 2.50
100 Bathing Girl Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 4.00
100 Movie Star Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 4.00
250 Bathing Girl Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 10.00
500 Bathing Girl Photographs, size 3½ × 5½, no two alike 20.00

12 Art Nudes, size 8 × 10, excellent poses, all different $10.00
25 Art Nudes, size 8 × 10, excellent poses, all different 15.00
50 Art Nudes, size 7½ × 9½, our leading sellers, no two alike 25.00
100 Art Nudes, size 7½ × 9½, excellent poses, all different 50.00

25 Art Nudes, size 5 × 7, no two alike $10.00
50 Art Nudes, size 5 × 7, no two alike 20.00
100 Art Nudes, size 5 × 7, no two alike 35.00

SPECIAL ASSORTMENT

In order that you may become acquainted with our line of beautiful nudes, we will forward, upon receipt of =Ten Dollars=, a special assortment of twelve genuine photographs, comprising four each of the following sizes: 7½ × 9½, 8 × 10 and 11 × 14. If the selection does not prove entirely satisfactory upon receipt, you may return the same to us intact, and we will immediately refund your money.

Art Nudes are shipped by sealed express. Remit by money order or bank draft. All orders shipped promptly.

THE AMERICAN ART COMPANY
Wholesale and Retail
JANESVILLE, WISCONSIN, U. S. A.

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_Everywhere!_

_Whiz Bang_ is on sale at all leading hotels, news stands, 25 cents single copies; on trains 30 cents, or may be ordered direct from the publisher at 25 cents single copies; two-fifty a year.