Chapter II: Part 2

But that’s all put behind me, long ago and far away
Since I hit out for St. Looey one night on the C. & A.
But they’re tellin’ in the jungles that the winter’s one best bet
For a young and handsome hobo is to be a widder’s pet.
Oh them boardin’ kitchen smells as she fed me jams and jells
And the skuts of “suds” from Ryans—I won’t ever need naught else!

Ship me somewhere south of “Chi” though where the bloomin’ mob ain’t
cursed
With a Volstead disposition and a man can quench his thirst
For the winter snows are falling and its there that I would be
Either Juarez or Havana with a widder on my knee!

* * * * *

Charley Wong

_Copyrighted. By permission of the Author, Green Room Club, New York._

By H. A. D’Arcy.

The west was pretty wild when Bill Durant and I went out,
’Twer in ’59 or ’60, somewhar that about,
Bill took his pretty wife along (they’d been wed about a year),
A buxom kind of girl she war, that never thought o’ fear.

And I don’t know that she needed to, for the miners one and all,
Would have fought for her like devils if she’d ever made the call;
And afore we’d fairly built a hut to keep her from the damp
A little baby gal was born—the first one in the camp.

And didn’t the boys keep Christmas? Well, I’m shoutin’ now they did;
Why, they all got roarin’ full that night just in honor o’ the kid;
And by the time that baby were a little tot o’ three years old,
She had a big tomato can just filled with virgin gold.

I built a cabin ’bout a quarter mile away from Bill’s,
So we both had kinder cozy homes protected by the hills;
And Charley Wong, the Chinaman, had opened handy by
The laundry o’ the canyon, and he washed for Bill and I.

Now, Chinamen ain’t liked too well, and one day in a row
Charley got pretty badly used, I disremember now
Just what the trouble war about, but Bill war in the fray,
And he helped to beat the Chinaman in a rather brutal way.

Durant weren’t bad at heart, ye know, but like too many others,
He didn’t like Mongolians, nor own ’um men and brothers;
And I often heard him say that if the Chinamen wer near
He’d cut the leper’s pigtail off and stick it through his ear.

One evening Lizzie (Durant’s wife) and little Tot, the child,
Were comin’ homeward down the hills when all at once a wild
And fearful howl were heard behind—two wolves were on their track,
Liz says she stopped and grabbed the child and threw it on her back.

Then shrieking aloud for help, she ran, as swift as any hind
Toward the Chinese laundry hut—the wolves came fast behind;
Nearer and nearer on they came; then reaching Charley’s door,
The mother, with her precious load, fell prone upon the floor.

Bill and I were talkin’ when we heard the fearful cries,
And rushing to the laundry the sight that met our eyes
Was far too horrible to tell, for thar was Charley Wong
Dead, and a blood-stained knife in hand full fifteen inches long.

He’d fought a fearful battle; one brute wer by his side
With its entrails all hanging out, and blood stains on its hide;
But t’ other had got its work in afore Bill and I got there,
And wer gnawing Charley’s throat and face till the bones were laying
bare.

Wall, we made quick work o’ Mr. Wolf, we filled ’um full o’ lead,
Then gathered child and mother up and took ’em home to bed,
Next day when Lizzie told her tale, Bill’s eyes were full o’ tears,
He didn’t brag much sentiment, and hadn’t wept for years.

Poor “Washee!” when we packed him up the camp boys stood around
Each one with hat in hand and tearful eyes cast on the ground;
We shipped the corpse to ’Frisco, with a bag o’ the yellow dust
To pay the freight to Pekin—to “Rest In Peace,” I trust.

But ever after that, if any man had got the face
To say Chinese wer yallow dogs, he’d better quit the place;
For thar ain’t a name more holy held in Canyon Idlewild
Than Charley Wong, the Chinaman, that saved Bill’s wife and child.

* * * * *

A horse fly eats whip crackers.

* * * * *

The Song of Camille

Sitting alone by my window,
Watching the moonlit street,
Bending my head to listen,
To the well-known sound of your feet
I have been wondering darling
How I can bear the pain,
When I watch with sighs and tear-wet eyes,
And wait for your coming in vain.

For I know that the day approaches,
When your heart will tire of me,
When by door and gate I must watch and wait,
For a form I shall not see.
For the love that is now my heaven
The kisses that make my life,
You will bestow on another,
And that other will be your wife.

You will grow weary of sinning,
Though you do not call it so
You will long for a love that is purer
Than the love that we two know,
God knows I love you dearly
With a passion strong as true,
But you will grow tired and leave me
Though I gave up all for you.

I was pure as the morning
When I first looked on your face,
I knew I could never reach you
In your high exalted place,
But I looked and loved and worshipped
As a flower might worship a star
And your eyes shown down upon me
And you seemed so far, so far.

And then? Well then you loved me
Loved me with all your heart,
But we could not stand at the altar
We were so far apart.
If a star should wed with a flower,
The star must drop from the sky
Or the flower in trying to reach it
Would droop on its stem and die.

But you said that you loved me darling,
And swore by the heavens above
That the Lord and all of his Angels
Would sanction and bless our love,
And I? I was weak, not wicked,
My love was as pure as true,
And sin itself seemed a virtue,
If only shared by you.

We have been happy together,
Though under the cloud of sin
But I know that the day approaches
When my chastening must begin,
You seem to think kindly of me
But you seem downhearted and blue,
But you will not always be
And I think I had better leave you.

I know my beauty is fading,
Sin furrows the fairest brow,
And I know your heart will weary,
Of the face you smile on now.
You will take a bride on your bosom,
After you turn from me,
You will sit with your wife in the moon-light
And hold your babe on your knee.

Oh! God I could not bear it,
I would my brain I know,
And while you love me dearly,
I think I had better go.
It is sweeter to feel my darling
And know as I fall asleep
That some would mourn me and miss me
That someone was left to weep.

Though to die as I should in the future,
To drop in the streets some day,
Unknown, unwept and forgotten,
After you passed me away.
Perhaps the blood of the Savior,
Can wash my garments clean,
Perchance I may drift on the water,
That flows in the pastures green.

Perchance we may meet in heaven,
And walk in the street above,
With nothing to grieve us or part us,
Since our sinning was all through love.
God says, love one another,
And down to the depths of Hell,
Well he sent the soul of a woman,
Because she loved—and fell.

And so in the moon-light he found her,
Or found her beautiful clay,
Lifeless and pallid as marble,
For the spirit had flown away.
The farewell words she had written,
She held to her cold white breast,
And the buried blade of a dagger,
Told how she had gone to rest.

* * * * *

To a Mountain Rat

By Frank B. Lindeman.

Yes I reckon God made ye
He’s blamed for rattlesnakes,
And porcupines and woodchucks,
And if they ain’t mistakes
Ye’re a crowin’ example
Of carelessness divine,
To nigh the danger line.

Yer winkless eye in innocence
Hides cunnin’ cussedness,
And yer skin is full to bustin’
With a longin’ to possess
All things that don’t belong to you,
But when all’s said and done
There’s things on earth ye’ve failed to steal,
And reputation’s one.

* * * * *

The real John Barleycorn of older days is gone, but not forgotten.

Those of us who knew him best, and loved him most,

Stuck with him ’til the last drop.

* * * * *

Pretty (looking over the new theatre down-town)—What do you think of the excavation?

Witty—Oh, it’s pretty good as a whole.

* * * * *

The Bum and the Farmer’s Son

One fine day, in the month of May, a dirty old bum came hiking; He sat down by a pig pen, which was very much to his liking. On the very same day, in the month of May, a farmer’s son came piping; Said the bum to the son, “If you’ll only come, I will show you things to your liking. I will show you the bees, and the cigarette trees, and the gum drop heights, where they give away kites, and the big rock candy mountains; And the lemonade springs, where the blue bird sings, and marbles made of crystal; you can whiff the breeze from the mince pie trees, where the wind blows fine and frisky; and you can join the band of Rocky Mountain Sam, and get yourself a sword and a pistol.” The farmer’s son then went along, listening to the bum’s merry song; and for six months they did travel. Said the bum to the son, “When I get done, you’re going to be a little devil.” The punk looked up with his big blue eyes, and then he said to Sandy, “Now we’ve been a hiking all day long, now gosh darn where’s your candy? You put a brace on my leg, and showed me how to beg, and you told me you were my jocker; and you told me lies, when you promised me pies, and you called me an apple knocker; I’m a goin’ back home, no more to roam, I’m packing my junkerino; You can bet your lid, that this Hoosier kid, won’t be any bum’s punkerino.”

* * * * *

Misplaced Eyebrow—“There is a hair in my soup.”

Diplomatic Waiter—“Probably out of your mustache.”

“I never thought of that.”

* * * * *

Clap, Clap, Clap, Hurray!

“How do you like the Volstead Act?”

“I never did care for vaudeville.”

* * * * *

Oh, the Merry Bells of Windsor

Johnny was late at school and explained that a wedding at his house was the cause of the delay.

“That’s nice,” replied teacher, “who gave the bride away?”

“Well,” Johnny answered, “I could have, but I kept my mouth shut.”

* * * * *

The Barb Wire Hairnet

_Her has gone, her has went,_
_Her has left I all alone,_
_Can her never come to me,_
_Must me always go to she?_
_It can never was._

* * * * *

Some Parties, Ahoy!

“I suppose your wife was tickled to death at your raise in salary?”

“She will be.”

“Haven’t you told her yet?”

“No, I thought I would enjoy myself for a couple of weeks first.”

* * * * *

Isaac Goldstein came home one evening, unexpectedly, and found a man sitting on his wife’s lap.

Next day he told his business partner about it. His partner asked Mr. Goldstein what he had said to the man.

Goldstein replied, “I didn’t even speak to him. He was a stranger.”

_Pasture Pot Pourri_

_Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,_
_If you don’t like my figure,_
_Keep your hands off my shoulders._

* * * * *

Finishing Touches

“It’s snow use,” said Alvie; “we can’t go tonight.” And he hung up the receiver, while the fluffy flakes fell on the grass outside.

* * * * *

Jewish Bees

_Biz-z—Biz—Biz-ness._

* * * * *

“I’m through,” cried Pedro, as he glanced over the Whiz Bang Winter Annual.

* * * * *

Tar Baby

I once knew
A Girl
Who was so modest
That she wouldn’t
Even do
Improper Fractions.

* * * * *

Down in Dreamy Honohula

If I was a man in the land of orange and fig,
I would sit with my thingamabob, and play on my thingamajig.

* * * * *

Longfellow

A tramp sat in the doorway of the box car, his feet dragging on the ground.

* * * * *

Strike Three!

_They are fools who kiss and tell,_
_Thus it is the poet sings,_
_But that is why so many girls_
_Are sporting wedding rings._

* * * * *

SHE CREPT UP TO THE SCALES LIKE AN ARAB, AND SILENTLY STOLE A WEIGH.

* * * * *

Motto For Poets

If at first you don’t succeed, keep on sucking till you do suck seed.

* * * * *

Mr. Martin of Martin’s Ferry, protests against us writing our jokes on tissue paper so that our Philadelphia friend could see through them.

“Tearible,” remarks Mr. Martin.

* * * * *

They are all roses, but some of them are pretty wild.

* * * * *

Will Be Dedicated By Request

What care we for Mary’s lamb,
Now he’s long been to sleep?
We’d rather see her pretty calves
Than those old, pesky sheep.

* * * * *

The cold weather chills me to the bone.

You should wear a hat.

* * * * *

Vengeance at Last

_Suddenly there came a tapping as if someone were scrapping, slapping, rapping all the poets who write “Apologies to Poe”—just outside my chamber door._

* * * * *

Old Ben Jo’ chewed slippery ellum;
Slippery ellum,
All the dern day long.

* * * * *

A Tough Break

Had a great tip on a horse yesterday called cigarette, but I didn’t have enough tobaccer.

* * * * *

Da, Da, Daddy

I love them all, I love them all,
Please take me in swimmin’
With bow-legged women.
For I love them all.

* * * * *

“They sure soak you here,” Gus remarked as he paid for a Turkish bath.

* * * * *

_“How hoarse you are this morning.”_

_“Yes, my husband got home very late last night.”_

* * * * *

My wife and I have been holding hands for twelve years. If we ever let go we’ll kill one another.

* * * * *

_My bride is a nice girl, but she sleeps with her knees up and the draft gives me a cold._

* * * * *

I’d like to see something in a lady’s combination.

So would I.

* * * * *

We Found These Woids

“Why, honey, I love you with an equatorial passion that no adding machine can register.”

* * * * *

Oregon Gal

There she goes on her toes,
All dressed up in her Sunday clothes,
Ain’t she neat, ain’t she sweet,
She has brand new stockings,
And nice big clumsy feet.

* * * * *

_There are a lot of towns in this country that don’t bury their dead. They just let ’em walk around._

* * * * *

Mr. and Mrs. Fish wish to announce the arrival of a couple of bouncing minnows.

* * * * *

_Musicians have an easy job. While they’re at work they’re only playing._

* * * * *

I asked the boy across from my farm what he got for planting potatoes. He said, “I don’t get nothin’ when I do, but I get hell when I don’t.”

* * * * *

I got a fellow so drunk last night that it took three bell boys to put me to bed.

* * * * *

Wanted: Man to drive. Must bring hammer and nails.

* * * * *

Hey, Eddie!

Eddie was great at a party. In fact, you couldn’t have a party without him. He was a great mixer.

* * * * *

Here It Is Again, Enlarged

_Oh, Scissors, let us cut up!_

_Would Gillette me?_

* * * * *

“I’ve come to the end of my rope,” our hero cried as he threw his cigar away.

* * * * *

He mixed his beans with honey,
He’d done it all his life.
’Twas not because he liked the taste,
But it held them on his knife.

* * * * *

Teddy’s Teachings

Get the habit, like the rabbit—multiply.

* * * * *

Let us all join in singing that timely melody:

“Keep her picture in your watch—you’ll love her in time.”

* * * * *

Going Up!

_He started life as a chiropodist and worked his way up to be a throat specialist._

* * * * *

Don’t always stand on the same side of the pulpit. You’ll wear a hole in the carpet.

* * * * *

Here’s to the girl that I kissed last
Who doesn’t kiss slow and doesn’t kiss fast,
With lips like a ruby and cheeks like a rose,
How many have kissed her God only knows.

* * * * *

_“I’m the King of Siam!”_

_“Yesiam!”_

* * * * *

He left the light burning so he could see to go asleep.

* * * * *

Oh the Moon Shines Bright

Look out lips, look out gums,
Look out tummy, here she comes.

* * * * *

Kentucky College

Bring on the “moon,”
Ring the bell,
Near-beer! Near-beer!
S.—O.—L.

* * * * *

The funniest thing I ever saw was a cross-eyed woman telling her hump-backed husband to walk straight home.

* * * * *

Mrs. Murphy asked for a nut cracker and her husband gave her a beer bottle.

* * * * *

The 1922 Girl

I should worry, I should care
I should marry a millionaire.
If he should die, I should cry,
I should marry my regular guy.

* * * * *

A little song entitled,
“OIL BY MYSELF”
By John D.

* * * * *

She’s a wonderful girl. She can keep a secret in four different languages.

* * * * *

There is no difference between me and the prohibition agent. We’re both after the same thing.

* * * * *

The moral of a dog’s tail is that it invariably points to the past.

* * * * *

Wriggle Through This One

We have a terrible lot to be thankful for,
Now prohibition’s here,
They’ve taken away our whisky, wines and lager beer,
They’ll take away our tobacco next,
Along with the demon rum,
We’ll have a deuce of a lot to be thankful for,
If they leave us chewing gum.

* * * * *

How Do You Get That Way?

A Jewish sergeant at Camp Lee in 1918 was explaining to a rookie the command, mark time, in the following manner: “Foist you raise yer right foot six inches in de air and then bring the left foot alongside the right one.”

* * * * *

“Lovely day, don’t you think,” said the man as he hit his thumb with the hammer.

* * * * *

Two Swedes went to Ireland
To kiss the blarney stone,
But they couldn’t catch their lutefisk
Where the River Shannon flows.

* * * * *

Willie, your face has changed quite a bit.

Yes, mother, dear, I’ve been washing it.

* * * * *

A change of wives ofttimes improves one’s disposition.

* * * * *

Consolation

“Who is that terrible looking woman?”

“That’s my sister.”

“Oh, that’s all right; you ought to see mine.”

* * * * *

Dope This One

After Theophile returned to the city he wrote to Farmer Si Hopkins concerning a question which has been puzzling him for some time.

“Why,” he inscribed, “do you lock up that donkey of yours so carefully every night?”

In due course of time came Farmer Hopkins’ reply. “Because it is too good an *.”

* * * * *

Hiawatha Skinned a Squirrel

Hiawatha skinned the squirrel,
Just sat down and went and skinned it;
Went and skinned it to a finish,
From its skin he made some mittens.
Made them with the outside inside,
Made them with the inside outside,
Made them with the fur side inside,
Made them with the skin side outside,
Made them with the warm side inside,
Made them with the cold side outside.
Had he placed the fur side outside,
Had he placed the skin side inside,
Had he placed the outside inside,
And the inside inside
Then the warm side would have been outside,
And the cold side inside,
So to get the fur side, warm side inside,
Placed the skin side, inside, outside.
Now you know why Hiawatha placed the outside, fur side, warm side,
inside, and the inside, skin side, cold side, outside.

* * * * *

For when the One Great Scorer comes to write against your name He writes not that you won or lost, but how you played the game.

* * * * *

“They don’t look natural,” said the man, as he rolled two threes.

* * * * *

How Kum?

Tom—“Where have you been for the last three hours?”

Bill—“In the saloon talking to the bartender.”

Tom—“What did he say?”

Bill—“No.”

* * * * *

Quick, Gents!

_At sixteen, risque,_
_Likes a naughty joke;_
_At seventeen, blase,_
_Tries to learn to smoke;_
_At eighteen, mildish,_
_Jolly just the same;_
_At nineteen, childish,_
_Getting rather tame;_
_At twenty, breezy,_
_Merely debonair;_
_At twenty-one, uneasy;_
_So re-bobs her hair;_
_But when she reaches twenty-two_
_Her rush turns to a shove,_
_For then her motto has become:_
_Love and let love._

* * * * *

Wanted: Man with ugly face to frighten children that play in my yard.

* * * * *

He Calls This “Poetry”

He’s got a swell noodle,
Our friend Ted,
He wears an eight and a half hat,
For a six and a half head.

* * * * *

Dusting Off the Old Ones

Man went into German butcher shop and asked price of pork chops. To the reply of 30 cents a pound, he remonstrated that the butcher across the street asked only 20 cents.

“Why don’t you buy them there, then?” asked the German.

“I would, but he’s out,” said the customer.

“Oh, vell, ven I’m oud, I sell ’em for only 10 sends a pound.”

* * * * *

Eh, Maggie?

Here lie the bones of Peter Blunt
Down in this mothering nook.
Alas, he was too small a runt
To argue with a cook.

* * * * *

Warm Stuff

“My wife made it hot for me this morning.”

“How was that?”

“I insisted on her getting up to build the fire.”

* * * * *

My Advice

If you should marry a hootch hound
I’ll tell you what to do.
Get a leaky boat and send afloat,
And paddle your own canoe.

* * * * *

Chicago Tribune’s Column

(From the Charles City, Iowa, Press)

Manager Waterhouse, the movie man, who insists on giving his lady patrons the best, is improving the theater by renovating and decorating the ladies’ parlor and lobby and ladies can—at least, feel that everything is fresh and orderly.

_Classified Ads_

This Soots Me

(From the Spokane Spokesman-Review)

Young man, industrious, wants to meet lady with enough cash to have her chimney swept. Dan Vall.

* * * * *

Whatcha Got?

(From Richmond, Va., Times Despatch)

Have four daughters; would like to put them in a business of their own. What have you to offer? P.O. Box 1092, City.

* * * * *

And Everything

(From The Duluth Herald)

I got 10 aker of fine green timber dat I like for to sell on Miller Trunk Highway near Duluth. It bane yust vat yu want for a gude place to build cabin and have high old time, hunt yack rabbit & everything. I like for to go back to Norway & will sell very sheep. Write Lars Boguson, 1302 E. 8th St.

* * * * *

Ain’t We Got Fun?

(From The Aberdeen World)

WANTED—Girl or lady to stay with me nights; room rent free. A-26, care of World.

* * * * *

The Wild and Woolly West

(From Casper, Wyo., Herald)

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN—In justice to my husband to quiet a few rumors to the effect that he had beaten me up, during our recent family trouble, is absolutely untrue. Signed, Mrs. Bessie Peters.

* * * * *

_Jonah came from the whale with an awful cough._

* * * * *

The Busted Air Hose

An Italian was selling plaster of paris busts of great personages on the streets in New York. His cry was “Garibaldi, the greata man ina Italy, George Wash tha greata man ina United States. Tena centa each.”

An American, thinking to have some fun with him, took one of his busts of Garibaldi, dropped it on the pavement and said, “To hell with your Garibaldi.” The wop, not to be outdone, took one of his statues of Washington, threw it on the sidewalk, and said “To hell with your Georga Wash.”

* * * * *

That Ought to Cool It

Jerry recently took Gwendoline for a ride in his new car and returned rather late. Approaching a steep hill he stopped the car, got out and raised the hood.

“What’s the matter now?” asked Gwen.

“I must cool the engine before I try to make that hill,” replied Jerry.

“Oh, goodness alive,” said Gwen, “It is getting so awfully late. Why don’t you strip the gears?”

* * * * *

Tweet, Tweet

“I never spoke a cross word to my wife but once.”

“Quite remarkable, that.”

“Not so very. See that scar?”

* * * * *

How We Do It

A witty political candidate, after making a speech in an agricultural district, announced that he would be glad to answer any question that might be put to him.

A voice from the audience: “You seem to know a lot about a farmer’s difficulties. May I ask you a question about a momentous one?”

“Certainly,” replied the candidate, nervously.

“How can you tell a bad egg?” went on the merciless voice.

The candidate waited until the laughter had died down, then replied, “If I had anything to tell a bad egg I think I should break it gently.”

He won the place.

* * * * *

April Fool!

It was only an old beer bottle,
Floating across the foam,
Just an old beer bottle,
Far away from home.
Only an old beer bottle,
With these sad words written on,
“Whoever finds this beer bottle,
Will find that the beer’s all gone.”

* * * * *

Another Married Chestnut

“I had a queer dream last night, my dear. I thought I saw another man running off with you.”

“What did you say to him?”

“I asked him what he was running for.”

* * * * *

For Men Only

When you play poker you take a chance; when you marry you have no chance.

* * * * *

Maids want nothing but husbands; after that they want everything.

* * * * *

Most of the women who cry at weddings have been married themselves.

* * * * *

Our Carpenter Hero

He “hammered” on the door; was answered by a girl who wore a white “sash,” and asked if he could get a “square” meal. He “saw” that the place was “plane” but clean, and “planking” himself down to the table, he “braced” his legs beneath the chair, and “bit” into a Parker “House” roll. His “nails” were rather dirty, but he met the “stairs” of those about him with a “level” glance. After “bolting” his food, he “shingled” off a dollar bill, paid the girl, opining that it was a good place to “board.”

* * * * *

_The tenants who formerly lived on the floor above said that our baby balled them out._

* * * * *

Hi Say, Chappie

Maybelle (coquettishly)—You tickle me, Duke.

The Duke—My word, what a strange request!

* * * * *

Action vs. Words

Have you ever
After an evening
Of anticipation
Finally arrived
At the crucial moment
And with a
Depth breath
Taken the....
Initial step
Aeons later
A small voice
Somewhere is
Heard to say
“Don’t”
While two arms
About one’s neck
Refute the argument.

—Voo Doo.

* * * * *

Friday Special

Restaurant patron—Have you any whale, waiter?

No, sir.

Have you any shark?

No, sir.

Then give me a T bone steak. God knows I asked for fish.

* * * * *

“Waiter! There’s a fly in my ice cream.”

“Serves him right; let him freeze.”

_Our Rural Mail Box_

=_Lou Z. Lizzie_=—I quite agree with you. A man who gives you his diamond ring to look at and then wants it back is no gentleman.

* * * * *

=_Mary Ellen Slapapple_=—The fact that your sweetheart gave you two black eyes is striking proof of his affection.

* * * * *

=_Howsh E. Shaykes_=—A change of pasture is good for the bull, you know, old dear.

* * * * *

=_Hittem Formy_=—Don’t run your legs off after a woman; you’ll need them to kick yourself.

* * * * *

True lovers never say good night until morning.

* * * * *

As a Rule

Clerk (at Employment Bureau)—“Someone has sent for a yardman, sir.”

Manager—“We haven’t any yardmen at present.”

Clerk—“Then shall I send up three footmen, sir?”

* * * * *

The Barber Itch

Three prospective brides were in conference, Madge, Mary and Martha.

Madge—I am to marry a lawyer with fine practice. We are building a beautiful home.

Mary—My future husband is a banker and we will have a summer home, a maid and a car.

Martha—Well, girls, if you must know, I am to marry a barber.

Consternation reigned.

“What on earth are you going to marry a barber for?” gasped Madge and Mary.

Martha—Because any time a barber isn’t kissing you he is talking about it.

* * * * *

_A timid bachelor recently walked into a dance hall by mistake, and thought he was in a ladies’ dressing room._

* * * * *

Jack—You certainly disgraced me at the banquet last night when you got drunk.

Jill—What did I do.

Jack—When the charlotte russe was served you tried to blow the foam off it.

* * * * *

Pee Ess

In conclusion, Gentle Readers, don’t forget that Captain Billy’s encyclopedia of humor and poetry, the Winter Annual, Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22, is awaiting you at your newsdealer or the publisher.

The Winter Annual

_CONTENTS_

DRIPPINGS FROM THE FAWCETT
GIRL IN BLUE VELVET BAND
FACE ON THE BARROOM FLOOR
FRANKIE AND JOHNNIE BLUES
SHOOTING OF DAN MCGREW
WEDDING OF THE PERSIAN CAT
ACE IN THE HOLE
BOOZE FIGHTER’S DREAM
DIARY OF A DIVORCEE
FABLE OF THE BULL
HIGHTY TIGHTY APHRODITE
GOLIGHTLY HIGHBALLS
HOW TO KISS DELICIOUSLY
HUNTING THE WILY POLE CAT
MOHAMMEDAN BULL
OUR OWN FAIRY QUEEN
TOOL HOUSE ON THE FARM
THE OLD SMOKEHOUSE
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
GILA MONSTER ROUTE
PASTURE POT POURRI
HOOCH CURE BLUES
DYING HOBO
LASCA
SAM’S GIRL
TOLEDO SLIM
EVOLUTION
POPPIES
AFTER THE RAID
THE HARPY
THE SUICIDE
TARNISHED GOODS
SEPARATION
LITTLE RED GOD
THE LADIES
LIMBER KICKS
NAUGHTY BUT NICE
TO THE GIRL
RURAL MAIL BOX
TIRED HIRED MAN
LIFE’S A FUNNY PROPOSITION AFTER ALL

_Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22_

256 pages of fun. The gems of 25 early editions of Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang. Stories, toasts, poems, drippings and pot pourri comprise this greatest Whiz Bang book.

_Only a Few Left_

If your newsdealer’s supply is exhausted, pin a dollar bill, or your check, money order or stamps to the coupon below and receive this peppy collection.

Whiz Bang,
Robbinsdale, Minnesota.

Gentlemen:

Enclosed is dollar bill, check, money order or stamps for $1.00
for which please send me the Winter Annual of Captain Billy’s
Whiz Bang, “Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22.”

Name..............................................

Address...........................................

_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.

One dollar for the WINTER ANNUAL.