Questions and Answers

Dear Captain Billy—How will I head a story about a prominent Boston society girl marrying a Providence socialist?—Cub Reporter.

Just say: “Plymouth Rock chicken marries Rhode Island Red.”

Old Wheezy Bill—My landlord has raised my rent because I have a case of whisky in my apartments. Now, I don’t like to move and I don’t like to pay rent and then again its against the law to move the whisky, so what the’ll shall I do?—Oberst.

Your “case” has undoubtedly been disposed of by this time.

Dear Bill—To settle a dispute, please tell me what disease is caused from the microbe of a kiss?—June Bugg.

Palpitation of the heart.

Dear Bill—The ocean side seems so different this year. Why does it seem to make me feel so blue?—Flo Waters.

I do not know, Flo, unless it’s the wind blowing the froth over the bar that reminds you of olden days.

Dear Captain Billy—Why won’t they allow army aviators to take up women passengers in airplanes?—May Wheat.

I am told that too many of the pilots went blind while looping the loop.

Dear Editor—Can you give me the technical name for snoring?—Al McGluek.

Sheet music.

Dear Billy—Don’t you think the short skirts the girls are wearing make us look lots shorter?—Daisy Fields.

Yes, Daisy, but they make us men look lots longer, so what’s the difference?

Dear Billy—As you were in the United States army during the recent war, I wish you would inform me as to the principal ailments the boys got from abroad.—Prophylactic Pete.

I am unable to answer your question, Peter, but have referred it to Private Iodine Ike of the Cotton Batting corps.

Dear Captain Billy—I am lame, halt, nearly blind and 85 years old. What job do you think I should work at?—R. J.

Would suggest you apply for the position of gardener in a young woman’s seminary.

Dear Cap.—I’ve just composed a song for my 1920-21 “Record Breakers” show, entitled “The Stockyards Rag.” I’m enclosing a copy to get your opinion of it.—Jack Read, the “Information Kid.”

Dear Jack: The words of your song are all right, but I don’t like the “air.” It doesn’t smell just right.

Dear Captain Billy—What is your opinion of regulated public dance halls and do you believe there is a cure for the alleged dance evil?—Ichabod Iliad.

I say, on with the dance, let joy be unconfined, there is gladness unabated since Maggie Murphy dined. Did you, my dear Ichabod, ever see a teakettle bubble, dance, sing and boiler over? Well, that was the effect. The pep, fire and energy underneath it was the cause. You can’t put out the fire by removing the teakettle to a cooler spot. Therefore you can’t cure evil thinking by doing away with dancing. Fire, pep, energy is the natural results we get from the disgusting habit we have of eating. Consequently if we remove the cause, which is eating, evil thinking or dancing, which is the effect, will cure themselves.

Dear Editor—Please help me. I was out with a young lady for the first time when she saw some jewelry. She said she wished to buy some but had left her pocketbook at home. What should I have done?—Troubled Tom.

You should have lent the lady five cents to go home and get her pocketbook. Always be a gentleman.

Dear Billy—Is it essential that a “movie vamp” have dark hair and eyes?—Blondie.

No, Blondie, you still have a chance. A vamp doesn’t have to have dark hair and eyes. I know of lots of blond ones, with big blue eyes, and several red-headed ones.

Dear Whiz Bang—Is there any truth in the rumor that Douglas Fairbanks is already considering getting a divorce from Mary Pickford?—Ima Darby.

I don’t believe it’s true but only an idle rumor gathered from the story that Doug was peeved because Mary talked in her sleep and cried out the name of her first husband too often.

Dear Editor Whiz Bang—I am a civics instructor at a high school, am 45 years of age, but act like any spry young man. I am deeply infatuated with the pretty young school secretary. I went with her a few months this year and then for a spell lost my liking for her. Now for some reason or other I am again in love with her, but am afraid to make any advances to her because she has recently purchased a car and I am afraid people will think that there is “method in my madness.” Remember that I love her and then tell me what to do.—Ad Noid.

You’re not acting like “any spry young man” if you’re withholding your declaration of love for fear of what people would think. Tell her and don’t lose any time about it.