Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. 30, February, 1922: America's Magazine of Wit, Humor and Filosophy — John Shaqi
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. 30, February, 1922: America's Magazine of Wit, Humor and FilosophyVarious
General
Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 3, No. 30, February, 1922: America's Magazine of Wit, Humor and Filosophy
Various
American wit and humor -- Periodicals
There is a very general misapprehension on this subject and acts of the
officials have been winked at because the public really did not know what
was going on and did not realize the extent of the practice indulged in
by what are very generally called stool pigeons.
The laws of this or any other state may be enforced without making all
the people detectives, as the Snoopers’ League would have them, or
without permitting the practice of certain classes of officials, who
sometimes literally hire men to commit a crime, in order that that very
crime may be suppressed.
* * * * *
_Where did I get my education? Why, me dad used to take me over his knee.
He made me smart._
* * * * *
Bully for the Chicago Tribune. That journal slips the prong into Bluenose
Crafts in a recent issue:
It is beginning to appear that the movement led by Mr. Crafts
is as bigoted and as savage in its purpose as those which we
thought were buried in the semi-barbarous past. It must be held
that no human uplift but maniacal desire to inflict physical
punishment is the motive. Mr. Crafts and his followers wish to
put as many of their fellow countrymen as possible in jail, and
they are trying to wreck this republic in order to do so.
* * * * *
Farmyard Notes
Chickens get tough when they run around too much.
* * * * *
Be it ever so humble, there’s no flower like the cauli.
* * * * *
A bird in the oven is worth two in the bush and a berry in the bush is
not worth two in the hand.
* * * * *
_I wish I was cross-eyed, then I could stand on a windy day and gaze at
a lady wearing a short skirt, right in the eye and still have a guilty
conscience._
* * * * *
Cellar Ancestry
The potatoes eyes were full of tears,
And the cabbage hung its head,
For there was grief in the cellar that nite,
For the vinegar’s mother was dead.
* * * * *
_You can lead a cow to water but the Bull—he must be herd._
* * * * *
As It Is In New York
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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