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Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang, Vol. III. No. 29, January, 1922
Whiz Bang’s greatest book—The Winter Annual Pedigreed Follies of 1921-22—hot off the press. Orders are now being mailed. There will be no delay as long as the supply lasts. If your news stand’s quota is sold out—
Or your check, money order or stamps To the coupon on the back 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.
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 bought anywhere in 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.
_America’s Magazine of Wit, Humor and Filosophy_
Published Monthly W. H. Fawcett, Rural Route No. 2 at Robbinsdale, Minnesota
Entered as second-class matter May, 1, 1920, at the postoffice at Robbinsdale, Minnesota, under the Act of March 3, 1879.
Price 25 cents $2.50 per year ONE DOLLAR FOR THE WINTER ANNUAL
Contents of this magazine are copyrighted. Republication of any part permitted when properly credited to Capt. Billy’s Whiz Bang.
“We have room for but one soul loyalty and that is loyalty to the American people.”—Theodore Roosevelt.
Captain Billy’s Whiz Bang employs no solicitors. Subscriptions may be received only at authorized news stands or by direct mail to Robbinsdale. We join in no clubbing offers, nor do we give premiums. Two-fifty a year in advance.
Edited by a Spanish and World War Veteran and dedicated to the fighting forces of the United States
After an extended trip of two months, which led me throughout the North American continent, it was a rare treat to settle down again to routine duties on the Whiz Bang farm. The main street of our own little “Gopher Prairie” looked mighty good to a tired and worn out farmer. ’Twas indeed a pleasure to view the Howard lumber yard, with its red fence and shed, and to grasp the sturdy hand of our village postmaster and storekeeper, Bud Nasett. J. J. McCormick, who is depot agent and telegraph operator, not to mention baggage smasher for genial drummers, greeted me at the station.