Today in History

* * *

Fair Dancer—Say, walk over your own feet!He—What do you think I am, a cross-country runner?

Fair Dancer—Say, walk over your own feet!

He—What do you think I am, a cross-country runner?

* * *

Button up your mouth, boys, you’ve ingrown heels.

* * *

They were married and lived snappily ever after.

* * *

It takes a tough bird to eat currents off a live wire.

* * *

(From Charlotte, N. C., Paper)

To Sublet—Heated apartment for July and August.

* * *

“So you’ve been to Paris? How did you like the Eifel Tower?”

“Eifel Tower? Huh, I didn’t have my eyes more than two feet off the ground all the time I was there.”

* * *

In she came;Down she sot;Laid a little egg,And up she got.

In she came;

Down she sot;

Laid a little egg,

And up she got.

* * *

“The MISERY of a CHILD—is interesting to a MOTHER!

“The MISERY of a YOUNG MAN—is interesting to a YOUNG WOMAN!

“The MISERY of an OLD MAN—is interesting to NOBODY!”

* * *

Roses are rare,Violets are few,I sure picked a lemon,When I got you.

Roses are rare,

Violets are few,

I sure picked a lemon,

When I got you.

* * *

“Yes,” remarked the stout lady in the private bar of the Helping Hand, “my Joe give me a ruddy good leatherin’ larst night. You oughter see my shoulders! They’re black and blue. But,” she added proudly,“’e never ’its me on the face, where it’ll show. My Joe’s too much of a gentleman for that.”

* * *

Reverting to the subject of colored babies, George Washington Jackson, informs us that his wife presented him with one last week that weighed only two pounds. Now he wants to know if this isn’t the first time a colored baby was born so light.

* * *

Yes, Alfred, the ambitious girl is ambitious to make a name for herself, but she usually ends by accepting some man’s.

* * *

A pacifist orator in Hyde Park, London, was declaiming against war. Seeing a returned soldier listening on the edge of the crowd, he roared out: “See that man! He is garbed in the uniform of war. But I belong to the army of heaven.” The “Tommy,” leisurely removing his pipe from his mouth, dryly replied: “You’re a ’ell of a way from your barracks, then.”

* * *

The height of Sir Walter Raleighism was observed at a bathing beach last month, when a young man carried a bathing suit clad girl from boat to shore through six inches of water so the poor dear would not get her feet wet.

* * *

Blessed are the orphan children, for they have no mothers to spank them.

Blessed are they who expect nothing, for they shall not be disappointed.

* * *

All we have to do in Robbinsdale to feel the spirit of the good old days is to eat an ear of corn and drink a pint of water.

* * *

Since the country is dry why manufacture umbrellas with crooked handles to hang over bars?

* * *

If a woman can’t break some man’s heart she gets reckless and breaks her own.

* * *

Wise men never borrow trouble when they can borrow money instead.

* * *

One swallow doesn’t make a summer,But one frog can make a spring.

One swallow doesn’t make a summer,

But one frog can make a spring.

* * *

The other day I was riding in the street car. I had my eye on a seat, but a woman sat on it.

* * *

A chilly reception doesn’t cool one off on a hot day.

* * *

Men fight with their fists, women with their tears.

* * *

When spinsterhood is bliss, ’tis folly to be wives.

* * *

We will now sing that touching little ballad, entitled, “Girls, don’t put make-up on your eyes, I’ll blacken ’em for you,” by the writers of “Naughty Nellie.”

* * *

First I gave her peaches,Then I gave her pearsThen I gave her fifty centsAnd kissed her on the stairs.

First I gave her peaches,

Then I gave her pears

Then I gave her fifty cents

And kissed her on the stairs.

* * *

What we would like to know is what part of a woman’s anatomy are the stairs. The author evidently received his training from the late Quenton, who reported that a South St. Paul woman was shot in the boiler room. Well, well, I must pull another cork now. Reminds me of the time I was half shot in the Islands.

* * *

Bachelor—“Do you suffer from cold feet?”

Newlywed—“Yes, but they aren’t mine.”

Arthur Neale’s Page

Boarding our Interborough subway car at Columbus Circle the other day en route for our office—or, to be more exact, the office in which we have desk room—we espied one of the loveliest young feminine creatures it had ever yet been our good fortune to gaze on. She would have inspired artists to undreamed of masterpieces—she would have thrilled even a sign-painter. Bathed in her beauty we rode on, oblivious of all else—even our getting off stop. How we wished that we knew her! At Times Square she arose to alight. Poor girl—she was lame.

Still reflecting on this, we reached the office and started to put the final—not finishing—touches to the musical composition we were then at work on, a snappy little one-step entitled “When My Baby Smiles at Me, I Wish She’d See a Dentist.” We had no sooner put pen to paper when one of these wandering salesmen entered the office and planked down his bag of wares on the desk. “Would you be interested in anything in ladies’ silk stockings?” he said. “We used to be,” we replied. “But now we know it’s best to be careful.”

During that day we had to make a trip further downtown, and so used the subway again. Seated opposite to us was a very nicegirl with her mother, and her legs were crossed—that is, the girl’s legs were. As Gus may remember, or rather, as Gus will never forget, there is a subway breeze wafting through these cars, and it was wafting just then. The mother noticed it, and although she spoke sotto voice—whatever that is—we heard her say to the girl: “Put your leg down, Rosie, der vind ist blowin’ der dress up.” “That’s all right, ma,” said the girl, “I ain’t deformed.” And seated directly opposite, we knew that the lady was quite correct.

While waiting with a friend the other evening for a Times Square traffic jam to disentangle itself, the friend drew our attention to a taxicab stalled at the curb just where we were standing. Or, to be precise, he drew our attention to the contents of the cab. She was a queen if there ever was one. Said our friend: “Shouldn’t mind being in there with that one.” “We should,” we replied. “Already the clock says $9.60.”

* * *

“Don’t yo’ all know it’s wrong to shoot craps?” piped the preacher as he discovered a portion of his congregation pursuing the Goddess of Chance.

“Yas, suh,” admitted one parishioner, languidly, “an’ bulieve me, Ah’s payin’ fo’ mah sins.”

* * *

(From Minneapolis Journal)

LOOK—I must sell my shoe hospital, as I am getting tired of sitting. 6383, Journal.

* * *

“You’re a stingy old tight wad, Bill.”

“How do you make that out, Joe?”

“Why I heard your wife say that if you owned the Atlantic Ocean you wouldn’t even give a clam a gargle.”

* * *

A certain young man named McGirth,Was born on the day of his birth,He was married they sayOn his wife’s wedding day,And he died on his last day on earth.

A certain young man named McGirth,

Was born on the day of his birth,

He was married they say

On his wife’s wedding day,

And he died on his last day on earth.

* * *

Pat was passing a graveyard one day and read on a tombstone, “I still live.”

“Be jabbers,” said Pat, “if I was dead sure I’d own up to it.”

* * *

I enlarge your babies and frame them for only $5.00.

* * *

A man I know kicked up a rowThat stirred the neighbors wrathHe walked up to a lady cowAnd slyly pinched her calf.

A man I know kicked up a row

That stirred the neighbors wrath

He walked up to a lady cow

And slyly pinched her calf.

* * *

(From Chattanooga Times.)

$10 REWARD. Black mare stolen. Return to W. W. Bell, Tyner, Tenn. Small wart in ear, tail chewed off at hocks; mane lays on both sides of neck; slightly reel-footed in two feet, one front, one hind; $25 if thief is with horse.

* * *

Mother (to battered son)—George, how many times have I told you to stop and count to a hundred before fighting?

George—That’s what I did, Ma, but the other kid’s mother told him to count only ten.

* * *

Why is a woman like an umbrella?

Because she is made of ribs and attached to a stick.

No, have another guess.

Because nobody ever gets the right one.

Wrong, swing at it again.

Because she fades with age.

Almost, pull another.

Because she is a good thing to have about the house.

Rotten. Here’s the answer: A woman is like an umbrella because she is used to “reign.”

* * *

They sat alone in the moonlight,And she soothed his troubled brow;“Dearest, I know my life’s been fast,But I’m on my last lap now.”

They sat alone in the moonlight,

And she soothed his troubled brow;

“Dearest, I know my life’s been fast,

But I’m on my last lap now.”

* * *

One reason there is so much sadness in the world is that somewhere it is always time to get up in the morning.

* * *

What is a monologue?

A conversation between husband and wife.

* * *

The most popular letter is the letter “E” for it was the beginning and last of Eve, the beginning of Eternity, the end of Time and Space, the beginning of every end, and the end of every Race, and will always stick to Loraine, Marie and Florence to a finish.It is also the most unpopular letter for it is never in Cash, always in Debt, everlastingly in Misery, never out of Danger, and always in RENT, HELL, and NEAR-BEER!

It is also the most unpopular letter for it is never in Cash, always in Debt, everlastingly in Misery, never out of Danger, and always in RENT, HELL, and NEAR-BEER!

* * *

They called the baby Ivy because she crawled all around the house.

* * *

While in New York City recently, a member of the Wild Cat Division, now employed in the McAlpin Hotel, related an anecdote on Paddy O’Loughlin, one of the division headquarter shuffers. It was after the armistice had been signed that Paddy made a flying trip to Paris, via his trusty flivver. Upon his return he made the following report to his buddies:

“The war ain’t finished yet, be gorra, by a hekuva sight. The battle in Paris, which is going on right now, is a darn sight worse than we had with the Boche. It’s a whole lot different kind of war, but a fellow isn’t any safer on the Grand Boulevard than he was in front of a German machine gun nest.

“The attack started no more than I hit Paris and it got worse every minute until I left. You bet I was lucky to come out alive. The enemy approached me as soon as I stepped out of my truck and opened fire. She swooped down on me like a thirsty Irishman pounces on a glass of suds, grabbed hold of me by the arm just like we used to nab the German prisoners and tried to carry me off. I broke away from her, but I hadn’t gone more than fifty feet before I met another detachment of the enemy. There were two of them this time. Say, talk about your camouflage! The Germans or French neither never had nothing on them. Their lips were made up like strawberries, and their eyes—oh, la! la!

“They tried the same game on me and tried to carry me away, but I got away from them.When I hit the Boulevard, it was just like trying to run through a heavy barrage. They were all over, little cute one pounders and big heavy seventy-fives. They used the old German mass formation on me and when I tried to push through, it was worse than climbing over barb wire entanglements in No Man’s Land. The rate of fire got hotter every minute. I didn’t want to do it but there were too many of them and I had to holler ‘Kamerad.’”

We tried to get “Paddy” to tell what happened after that, but he blushed and said that was all.

* * *

If you ever go to races I think you’ll agree,In the following philosophy which oft occurred to me;Some horses start off slowly and others make the pace,But the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race.It doesn’t always matter which jockey has your mount,When they rally down the homestretch, one thing alone will count,Luck often passes merit, and for better or for worse,The rear horse gets his lashing and the front horse takes the purse,When dealing cards in poker you are liable to findThat two pair seldom rank as high as three cards of a kind.The King card is high card but it doesn’t beat the ace:The first horse at the wire is the one that wins the race.Just look the records over, and you’ll stay with me, I guess,That really, for succeeding, there’s nothing like success;The world will surely judge you by the things that you have done!You will only get its pity for your battles nearly won.Reputation isn’t always what it’s lauded up to be,The shallow brooks are noisiest, down flowing to the sea,Great genius sometimes hides itself within the common face;Dark horses beat the favorites to many a gallant race.Endeavor may be noble, but the world doesn’t care a pin,For an ocean of endeavors unless they chance to win.Finish what you’ve undertaken if you want to make a nameSuccess has filled the niches in the temple walls of Fame.The most successful doctor is the one that most is paid,The merchant who most prospers is the one who gets the trade,The most successful lawyer is the one who wins the case,And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race,I often think it’s pretty hard that things should be just so,But you have to buy your ticket if you want to see the show.It’s the front of the procession where you always hear the band,And the boy who gets hot peanuts is the first one at the stand.So make your tablets ready and jot these maxims down;It’s the peasant does the hustling and the king that wears the crown.The man who gets the fox’s brush is the foremost in the chase,And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race.

If you ever go to races I think you’ll agree,

In the following philosophy which oft occurred to me;

Some horses start off slowly and others make the pace,

But the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race.

It doesn’t always matter which jockey has your mount,

When they rally down the homestretch, one thing alone will count,

Luck often passes merit, and for better or for worse,

The rear horse gets his lashing and the front horse takes the purse,

When dealing cards in poker you are liable to find

That two pair seldom rank as high as three cards of a kind.

The King card is high card but it doesn’t beat the ace:

The first horse at the wire is the one that wins the race.

Just look the records over, and you’ll stay with me, I guess,

That really, for succeeding, there’s nothing like success;

The world will surely judge you by the things that you have done!

You will only get its pity for your battles nearly won.

Reputation isn’t always what it’s lauded up to be,

The shallow brooks are noisiest, down flowing to the sea,

Great genius sometimes hides itself within the common face;

Dark horses beat the favorites to many a gallant race.

Endeavor may be noble, but the world doesn’t care a pin,

For an ocean of endeavors unless they chance to win.

Finish what you’ve undertaken if you want to make a name

Success has filled the niches in the temple walls of Fame.

The most successful doctor is the one that most is paid,

The merchant who most prospers is the one who gets the trade,

The most successful lawyer is the one who wins the case,

And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race,

I often think it’s pretty hard that things should be just so,

But you have to buy your ticket if you want to see the show.

It’s the front of the procession where you always hear the band,

And the boy who gets hot peanuts is the first one at the stand.

So make your tablets ready and jot these maxims down;

It’s the peasant does the hustling and the king that wears the crown.

The man who gets the fox’s brush is the foremost in the chase,

And the first horse at the wire is the horse that wins the race.

* * *

I asked a young lady if she would wed,With a smile in her bright roguish eyes, she said:“Go ask father.”Now she knew that I knewThat her father was dead.And she knew that I knewOf the life he had led.So she knew that I knew,What she meant when she said,“Go ask father.”

I asked a young lady if she would wed,

With a smile in her bright roguish eyes, she said:

“Go ask father.”

Now she knew that I knew

That her father was dead.

And she knew that I knew

Of the life he had led.

So she knew that I knew,

What she meant when she said,

“Go ask father.”

* * *

There was a young gent from TexWho made a trip over to Mex,And when he got backForty pints in a sack;He sold each pint for an X.

There was a young gent from Tex

Who made a trip over to Mex,

And when he got back

Forty pints in a sack;

He sold each pint for an X.

* * *

Scented talcum is all right, but hardly a substitute for a bath.

* * *

Here’s that we may swear, steal, and lie;When we swear may it be by the hand of justice;When we steal may it be away from bad company;When we lie may it be in the arms of the one we love best.

Here’s that we may swear, steal, and lie;

When we swear may it be by the hand of justice;

When we steal may it be away from bad company;

When we lie may it be in the arms of the one we love best.

* * *

A wise woman once said there are three follies of men. The first is climbing trees to shake down the fruit, when if they would wait long enough the fruit would fall of its own weight; the second is going to war to kill each other, when, if they only waited, they would die naturally, and the third, that they run after women when, if they would not do so, women would be sure to run after them.

* * *

Before Prohibition: “See your own country first.”

After: “Visit foreign lands and see your own country’s thirst.”

* * *

Customer—“Bring me a Typographical Error.”

Waiter (returning from kitchen)—“Sorry, we have none.”

Customer—“Well, here it is on the menu.”

* * *

Ikey and Pat were wounded in an engagement in the Argonne. A priest making the rounds found them. After giving the Irishman the last rites he then went over to Ikey and asked, “Do you believe in the Father, Son and Holy Ghost?”

Ikey groaned and rolled over.

“Oi, Oi! Here I am dying and you ask me riddles.”

Our Rural Mail Box

C. U. Later—Sunday is the strongest day. All of the rest are weak days.

* * *

Sin O. Nimm—Sorry, I can’t place you, but your breath smells familiar.

* * *

Unicorn—No, Uni, wrinkles do not denote the age of a prune.

* * *

I. C. S. Student—You ask me what is the most advisable course in the mining study to take up. Would suggest that you take up Kalso Mining.

* * *

Reggie—Yes, Reginald, ’tis true, only too true, that if the man in the moon had a baby he’d have the sky rocket.

* * *

Doc. Brady—As an instant relief for sore feet would suggest that you walk on your hands.

* * *

Run-Down Ikey—A sure way to acquire more initiative and pep is to wave a red shirt in front of Pedro.

* * *

Wealth is not his that has it, but his that enjoys it.

* * *

In the days when Lord Kitchener, the invincible bachelor, was remaking the British Indian forces, a youthful officer asked for a furlough to go home and be married. Kitchener listened patiently, and then spoke kindly. “Kenilworth, you’re not yet twenty-five. You’re in the midst of a piece of work I value and which you’re doing excellently. Wait a year. By that time you’ll have cleaned the slate and tried out your own mind. If then you still desire to do this thing, speak to me again, and you shall have leave; and I’ll take you back on the staff afterwards.” The year passed, and the officer once more proffered his request. “And you really tell me,” asked Kitchener, “that after thinking it over for twelve months you still wish to marry?” “Yes, sir, very much indeed.” “Adjutant,” commanded Kitchener, “Kenilworth is to have furlough to go to his own wedding. And frankly, my boy, I scarcely thought there was so much constancy in the masculine world.” Kenilworth about faced and marched to the door, but there turned and said, “Thank you, sir. Only it’s not the same woman.”

* * *

“Dress up,” roared the Topper, “y’ grinnin’ baboon;”“Dress up,” bawled the Topper, “y’ half-witted loon.”“How can I?” asked Riley, adjusting his spur.“How can I dress up on thirty beans per?”

“Dress up,” roared the Topper, “y’ grinnin’ baboon;”

“Dress up,” bawled the Topper, “y’ half-witted loon.”

“How can I?” asked Riley, adjusting his spur.

“How can I dress up on thirty beans per?”

* * *

Lament of the Gold Striper“God bless you, dearie, I’ll always be waiting,”Before I got back she’d done other mating.With a goop that stayed home without any rating,’Twas while I was gone that he did all his bating.Sad Refrain:Nothing to think about, nothing to do,Nothing to talk about, none to talk to,Nothing to look at, nothing is new,Nobody to love, no one loves you.Nothing to drink except in the sea,No one to say, “Have one on me,”Bootleg it? Yes, if you have the fee,The label is there, but it’s only weak tea.The sun never shines, nothing but rain,Feel sore all over, nothing but pain,No steps forward, not any gain.Left on the rocks, and lost in the game.

Lament of the Gold Striper

“God bless you, dearie, I’ll always be waiting,”Before I got back she’d done other mating.With a goop that stayed home without any rating,’Twas while I was gone that he did all his bating.

“God bless you, dearie, I’ll always be waiting,”

Before I got back she’d done other mating.

With a goop that stayed home without any rating,

’Twas while I was gone that he did all his bating.

Sad Refrain:

Nothing to think about, nothing to do,Nothing to talk about, none to talk to,Nothing to look at, nothing is new,Nobody to love, no one loves you.Nothing to drink except in the sea,No one to say, “Have one on me,”Bootleg it? Yes, if you have the fee,The label is there, but it’s only weak tea.The sun never shines, nothing but rain,Feel sore all over, nothing but pain,No steps forward, not any gain.Left on the rocks, and lost in the game.

Nothing to think about, nothing to do,

Nothing to talk about, none to talk to,

Nothing to look at, nothing is new,

Nobody to love, no one loves you.

Nothing to drink except in the sea,

No one to say, “Have one on me,”

Bootleg it? Yes, if you have the fee,

The label is there, but it’s only weak tea.

The sun never shines, nothing but rain,

Feel sore all over, nothing but pain,

No steps forward, not any gain.

Left on the rocks, and lost in the game.

* * *

“You’ve got to admit one thing,” said the man who believes prohibition has gone into effect, “and that is since the country went dry you don’t see so many smashed up automobiles on the country roads.”

“Yes,” answered his friend, as he adjusted his glasses, “a fellow who takes more than one shot of the hootch sold nowadays never gets as far as the city limits.”

* * *

Their jests, their quips, insipid jokes,I’ve heard till I am full;Why can’t the men fling bullion,Instead of flinging bull.

Their jests, their quips, insipid jokes,

I’ve heard till I am full;

Why can’t the men fling bullion,

Instead of flinging bull.

* * *

I’ve been swimming a lot lately and as a result am tanned a dark brown—so dark that my wife won’t let me out of her sight for a minute around the lakes—she’s afraid some women follower of the Stillman divorce case will mistake me for an Indian guide.

The Annual Is Out!Whiz Bang’s greatest book—The Winter Annual Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22—hot off the press. Mailing will begin in a few days. To those thousands of Captain Billy’s friends who already have sent in their one dollar bills, checks or stamps, we extend congratulations. Yours will go out first, in the order in which your orders were and are being received.PIN A DOLLAR BILLOr your check, money order or stampsTo the coupon on the opposite page.And receive our 256-page bound volume of jokes, jests, jingles, stories, pot pourri mail bag and Smokehouse poetry. The best collection ever put in print.REMEMBER, FOLKLast year our Annual (which was only one-fourth as large as the 1921-22 book) was sold out on the Pacific Coast within three or four days, and not a copy could be boughtanywherein the United States within ten days.So hurry up! First Come will be First Served!Pin your dollar bill to the coupon and mail to the Whiz Bang Farm, Robbinsdale, Minn.Don’t write for early back copies of our regular issues.We haven’t any left.

Whiz Bang’s greatest book—The Winter Annual Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22—hot off the press. Mailing will begin in a few days. To those thousands of Captain Billy’s friends who already have sent in their one dollar bills, checks or stamps, we extend congratulations. Yours will go out first, in the order in which your orders were and are being received.

PIN A DOLLAR BILL

Or your check, money order or stampsTo the coupon on the opposite page.

And receive our 256-page bound volume of jokes, jests, jingles, stories, pot pourri mail bag and Smokehouse poetry. The best collection ever put in print.

REMEMBER, FOLK

Last year our Annual (which was only one-fourth as large as the 1921-22 book) was sold out on the Pacific Coast within three or four days, and not a copy could be boughtanywherein the United States within ten days.

So hurry up! First Come will be First Served!

Pin your dollar bill to the coupon and mail to the Whiz Bang Farm, Robbinsdale, Minn.

Don’t write for early back copies of our regular issues.

We haven’t any left.

Our Winter AnnualIn addition to republication of gems of earlier issues of Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang, the first complete Winter Annual of this great family journal will contain a large variety of brand new jokes, jests, jingles, pot pourri, stories, and smokehouse poetry. This book, Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22, will contain four times as much reading matter as the regular issue of the Whiz Bang and will sell for one dollar per copy. It will be a book which will be cherished by the readers for years to come, and will contain the greatest collection of red-blooded poetry yet put in print. Included in the list will be:Johnnie and Frankie, The Face on the Barroom Floor, The Shooting of Dan McGrew, The Harpy, Lasca (in full), The Girl in the Blue Velvet Band, Langdon Smith’s “Evolution,” Advice to Men, Advice to Women, Our Own Fairy Queen, Stunning Percy LaDue, Parody on Kipling’s “The Ladies,” Toledo Slim.Advance orders are now being received and will be mailed in the order in which they are received. Tear off the attached blank and mail to us today with your check, money order or stamps.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.”NameAddress

In addition to republication of gems of earlier issues of Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang, the first complete Winter Annual of this great family journal will contain a large variety of brand new jokes, jests, jingles, pot pourri, stories, and smokehouse poetry. This book, Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22, will contain four times as much reading matter as the regular issue of the Whiz Bang and will sell for one dollar per copy. It will be a book which will be cherished by the readers for years to come, and will contain the greatest collection of red-blooded poetry yet put in print. Included in the list will be:

Johnnie and Frankie, The Face on the Barroom Floor, The Shooting of Dan McGrew, The Harpy, Lasca (in full), The Girl in the Blue Velvet Band, Langdon Smith’s “Evolution,” Advice to Men, Advice to Women, Our Own Fairy Queen, Stunning Percy LaDue, Parody on Kipling’s “The Ladies,” Toledo Slim.

Advance orders are now being received and will be mailed in the order in which they are received. Tear off the attached blank and mail to us today with your check, money order or stamps.

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 Bangis 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.A bull

Everywhere!

Whiz Bangis 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.

A bull

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