Captain Billy's Whiz Bang, Vol. 2, No. 22, July, 1921 — Smokehouse Poetry, Part 2
By a Former Acting-assistant Buck Private, Budd L. McKillipps.
Last night I was at a party And some fellow sang a song, A song I’d heard, But this poor bird Had half the words all wrong.
He sang a soldier ballad, But it lacked the army tang;
It sounded strange To hear the change, These were the songs he sang: _Mademoiselle from Armentieres;_ _Parley Vouz,_ _Mademoiselle from Armentieres;_ _Parley Vouz,_ _Mademoiselle from Armentieres,_ _She hasn’t been kissed in forty years,_ _Hinky Dinky Parley Vouz.
_ I’d tell you the way we sang it Around the cafes in France, (The words grow worse With every verse), I don’t dare take a chance.
_Oh, I long to see the captain in the grave yard,_ _With the quartermaster sergeant by his side,_ _And the non-commissioned officers in the tool house_ _While the privates in the mess hall running wild;_ _The non-commissioned officers are a bunch of dirty sticks,_ _They take us to the drill field and they teach us dirty tricks.
_ _Squads East, Squads West, Right Front Into Line—_ _The dirty bunch of loafers, they give us double time;_ _Then it’s home boys, home;_ _That’s where we ought to be,_ _Home, boys, home, to the land of liberty;_ _We’ll hoist Old Glory to the top of the pole_ _And we’ll all re-enlist—when the weather gets cold.
_ That wasn’t the way we sang it, To comrades garbed in O. D.
;
There’s some may tell The real song, well— You’ll not find out from me.
_I want to go home, I want to go home,_ _The mademoiselles in Gay Paree;_ _They certainly all feel sorry for me;_ _I want to go home_ _I’m here with a busted knee.
_ _Oh, hell, I wish I was well,_ _I want to go home.
_ I cried when I heard him sing that, ’Twas a song we sang in Brest;
When long days crept And boys were kept In stockades under arrest.
Oh, why do they change those ballads, Till nothing’s left but the air?
They’re made for men So sing them when There’s no darned women there.
* * * * * Tribute to the Painted Girl By Grayce Moody.
There are girly girls and whirly girls, And girls who are bashful and shy;
There are gay brunettes and dizzy blondes, And the girl with the wicked eye.
There’s the haughty girl who sits on the world, As the honey from life she sips, But give me the girl the world calls bad, The girl with the painted lips.
She’s there with a smile and a friendly word, When the world is going wrong, She will jolly you and cheer you up And tell you life’s a song.
She will stick by you and play you square, No odds if you’re down and out, She’s a dandy pal and a true blue friend, I’ll say she’s a regular scout.
Her life is not all sunshine and roses This painted little maid, But she hides her hurts behind a smile And faces the world unafraid;
Little she minds what the world says Or the “goody girls’” caustic quips, She’s worth a thousand “prudish prunes” My girl with the painted lips.
* * * * * Monkey Shines Two young men were riding on a street car which I chanced to squeeze onto with some 249 other adults.
“I took my first drink last night, Algernon,” said one of the pair.
“Did you, Clarence?
Honestly, where did you get it?
” queried the other.
“Down at a near beer parlor.
It was real near beer, too, with one-half of one per cent alcohol and everything.
” “I’ve been drinking, too,” said the other; “I had two whole glasses of near beer the other night.
I was going to a party, you know, and wanted to get plenty of pep.
” “Did you drink your near beer straight, or did you dilute it with water?
” asked Clarence.
“I drank it straight.
I wanted to get the full kick.
Straight, you know, with a coupla chasers.
” “I certainly went crazy after I took that drink, though.
I thought I was going to try to sing at first,” said Clarence.
“I hope none of my friends saw the way I acted after I took that near beer the other night,” Algernon put in.
“I went batty right away.
I
started telling all sorts of funny jokes and laughing ridiculously.
Went to see my girl immediately after, and she said she could tell I had been drinking after I told her.
She promised not to tell it, though.
” The two young men got off the car about this time, and a grizzled old dog sitting in front of me bit the neck off a bottle of turpentine he carried and drank the contents of the bottle.
“I heard that pair talking,” he said.
* * * * * Liberty’s Love Lights A young colored couple were sitting at the foot of the Statue of Liberty.
Henry was holding Mandy’s hand.
“Henry,” said Mandy, “Does you-all know why dey has such small lights on de Statue o’ Liberty?
” “Ah dunno,” replied the Ethiopian swain, “unless it’s because de less light, de mo’ liberty.
” * * * * * Ashes to ashes, And fire to fire;
He’s a weak old man, She’s a foxy vampire.
* * * * * Rasping Rastus’ Roost “What am de matter, Rastus?
Ketch cold?
” “Yeah, purty bad, too.
” “How come?
” “Ya know, I put mah bed out in de yard, and doggone if Ah didn’t go to bed las’ night wiff de gate open.
” * * * * * The head that is loaded with wisdom doesn’t leak at the mouth.
* * * * *
