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ONE QUARTER 



MARCH 1922 




Satire nf (gmtwrirjj HUlag? Mapptm 



YS/f/S/M/S/SJ/SSS/My/ySS/JY///M////S//////S/////////////////////////S/^^^ 



Your True Love Letters 



The power of love sways the world. Under its spell the 
universe totters or advances. Love is the essence of life. 

Love letters tell the true stories of ourselves, without gloss 
or stint. 

The question is not how to write but the will. It is what 
you put into your words and not the structure- 

This contest is for amateurs only. All letters should be 
based on actual fact, and as near the truth throughout as seems 
consistent in the mind of the author. 

Each month Cap'n Joey will select one or more letters from 
those submitted, basing his selection upon the superiority of 
idea or ideas carried throughout, as it appears to him, rather 
than on grammatical finesse ; also on the probable appeal of 
such letter or letters to the readers of Jazza-Ka-Jazza 
Magazine. 

$25.00 CASH FOR YOUR TRUE LOVE LETTER 

$25,00 in cash will be paid to the author or sender of each 
"True Love Letter" published in Jazza-Ka-Jazza Magazine. 

Perhaps you have a real love letter that you think will win. 
Send it in. When requested names of writers will not be 
published. 

N. B. — Letters should not exceed four-hundred words, and 
should be clearly written on one side of paper only. 

All selections are made by Cap'n Joey personally, and are 
final. 

Manuscripts found unavailable will be returned to sender, 
providing self-addressed, stamped envelope is enclosed, although 
we assume no responsibility for same. 

Cap'n Joey. 



Y/S/S/////////S///////S////S////S//S//////////S////////////W 







ELSIE YOUNG 
'Up In The Clouds". 



Photo by Schwartz 



* 




i ^ ^l^^^^l 



TED LEWIS 
King of Jazz at Ted Lewis Club. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



v/smy//y7/yss//////////////////?/w/////////s///////s^^^ 



Kind Reader: — 

We're back again. No doubt -'m thought Cap'n Joey 
had gone out of the countrv into Jersey. All the tune 
he was in the darkest hole of his den, burning- the mid- 
night oil to give you a better issue. The demi-virgin 
number of February was such a demi-tasse everyone 
ate it up and this number — well, read it for yourself. 

But the April issue — say, its going to iazz a Prohibit- 
ion hound into delirium tremens. 




Only the anemic provincial Puritan ob- 
jects to occasional humor founded on the 
good gross earth of human nature, the par- 
adox of that star-aspiring animal which is 
man. 

Richard LeGallienne 
in N. Y. Times Book Review 



Edited by a World War Veteran 

Who stands Flatfooted 

For a Soldier Bonus. 



Cap'n Joey will make you laugh, sigh-and perhaps cry. 
Jazza-Ka-Jazza is a pot-pourri, a duke's mixture of publica- 
tions, the most distinctive magazine in America to-day. 



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CAP'N JOEY'S 

Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

The Jazz Hound among Jazz Kickers 





THIS PUBLICATION WRIT, PUT UP AND PUT OUT BY THE 
VILLAGE JAZZERS IN THEIR JAZZORIUM, 39 7th AVENUE, 
IN THE WILDS OF GREENWICH VILLAGE AND FIVE MINUTES 
FROM BROADWAY. JO BURTEN, Editor. 

MARCH 1922 No. 2 ONE QUARTER 



JAZZORIAL 

it. 
-w 
$k 

TTHE sinster finger of professionalism has at last fal- 
len on college football circles. 

The sword of Damascus hang's by a hair over the 
heads of many. Spring- housecleaning is in order — the 
greatest cataclysm that has ever shook the col- 
lege world. Too well, college heads and gridiron men- 
tors see the handwriting on the wall, and are attempt- 
ing to stifle the press from the true elements. 

According to the code of football ethics there is none with- 
out stain. The epitome of all amateur football is rotten to the 
core and demands a drastic evolution, merciless and ruthless. 
Amateur rulings have retrogressed and are a thing of the past. 

Such has been the tempest that has struck the collegiate 
world — East and West, a cry of professionalism is heard and 
with the 'Taylorville' raucus, what with developments at Notre 



4 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

Dame and Illinois, it sure is a troubled world- What can one 
expect with the big gates football secured last fall. Some of 
the money idea percolated the domes of the players ? Must 
be a sweater or gold football don't satisfy* every one these days 
for risking his skin for his Alma Mater. And now, under ob- 
solete rulings, if a college player is tempted, and that usually 
after the season is over, by a pot of jack, he is only human if 
he accepts such dinero, especially if he is working his way 
through school. 

The pity of it is that those who control the sport and that 
goes for all collegiate sport, don't get together and make rules 
which are in conformity with human nature. One rule should 
be that after the playing season is over, the players be permit- 
ted to sell their athletic abilities if they so desire, as long as 
they do not conflict with their college work. 

Shall salaried gridiron directors, and hypocritical literary 
ascetic asses who fold their hands, complacently over well fed 
paunches direct the destinies, of young men in a creative sport 
demanding the utmost of strength, skill and "guts" for the 
empty honor of an institution? To a young man indulging in 
the planetesimal theory of the every day paen — when do we 
eat, the time spent at football practice could have been directed 
in other directions such as in the pursuit of food, clothes, 
books and the impedimenta necessary to keep young men in 
college. Did you know that most men work their way through 
college? Football men are no exception. 

Coach Dietz of Purdue University was dismissed when he 
admitted offering a sum of money to a football player. Had he 
committed a heinous crime? No. He only had assisted a 
human being through school. I have met many football 
players in my time at college, and not one received money 
because he was making a living at it, but for the reason 
it was furthering him through school. I myself have been 
to several colleges and have met the coaches of these institut- 
ions and know they are impartial to players, getting paid, if 
they can get away with it. In fact, one institution that I know 
of, the coach was the man behind the brains of the town and 
alumni who gathered shekels to help needy athletes. 

Oh, yes, the Big Ten will meet in Iowa City in March to 
take up the question of professionalism, and just like the repre- 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 5 

sentatives who met recently in New York, they will say, "don't 
do as I do; do as I say," to the athletes of the colleges.. Coming 
from men who are paid fancy salaries for a couple of months' 
work in diilling the college youth, it makes one think.. Coaches 
can never cure the ill in football — it is beyond their ken. But if 
it is necessary to overturn the entire rulings of amateur athletics 
— it is worth attempting. 

Amateur rules must be uprooted, bush and all. The time 
has come for concerted action. Retrogression must cease. Live 
and let live. Call an ace an ace and clean football in the right 
way. 

Proselizing will never cease unless football is eliminated from 
colleges. Professional football is touching the college game in 
its tender spot. Colleges have made big money, paid large sala- 
ries to a group of Bimbos and given the fellow who does all the 
hard work the honor of a sweater or a gold football, if they're 
nice and have played very good. 

Why can't a college player make his way through school 
with the knowledge of his gridiron sport? Hasn't he as much 
privilege as the big-headed simpleton who tutors infusorial 
matter or the electron theory to a bunch of simpletons? 

It is from without that proselizing of institutions comes. 
But it is from within that the cure of cancer must phoenixward 
rise. 

For years football players have been knocked about like ten 
pins. First one ruling and then another. Now the latest has 
been legislated: the "tramp" athlete has been barred by drastic 
legislation of the Southern Intercollegiate Athletic Association, 
making it impossible for an athlete to hie from one institution to 
another in the pursuit of education and play football as well. Do 
a bunch of noncompoop officials imagine that an athlete goes 
to college to play football ? No, first, last and always he attends 
to secure an education. A ruling in the West states that a foot- 
ball player will be ousted from his "letters" if he plays football 
after the season is over in his senior year.. What a lot of cheap 
rubbish and petty jealousy! Probably some football coach 
couldn't make the Canton Bulldogs or Jim Thorpe's team, and 
therefore all others were thwarted from doing so under a penalty \ 

No one can countenance the practice of college boys being 
amateurs and "pros" at the same time; but if they choose, after 



6 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

the college gridiron careers are ended, it should be nobody's 
business but their own. 

Let us take the example of Joe Doe, for instance. I know 
the man personally and have proof of all that I write. He is but 
one of hundreds all over the country. He was a star athlete at 
high school and was approached by an alumnus of Syracuse. 
Several talks with the boy and he started to Syracuse. Mean- 
while he was approached by an alumnus of Colgate, who prom- 
ised him a job at Hamilton- He went there, stayed one day, 
and left for Pennsylvania, where another alumnus had solicited 
him. He was given the promised job of leaving circulars for the 
central bureau at the fraternity houses on Walnut and Chestnut 
streets. At the institution another friend was given precedence 
to the job, by being more influential, and the boy had to leave 
Penn. He received a last offer to go to a Southern institution, 
where the lad held a regular berth on the team. Every month 
he was paid a salary by the townspeople and alumni that just met 
his school expenses. Another big Southern team offered the lad a 
big financial inducement but by that time no mercenary influence 
could wean him from his university. 

Such is the case in more than one instance. Athletes of prep 
schools are in demand. Alumni form an integral bond with insti- 
tutions, and proselizm starts at home. 

Football is a he-man's game. Professionalism is increasing 
notwithstanding the efforts to drown it. The type of man who 
plays on these professional teams ranks among the highest. For 
instance, when I was with the Canton Bulldogs, the greatest 
''pro" team in the West, there was West, of Colgate ; Steele, of 
Harvard; Kempton, of Yale; Griggs, of Texas. Take Charlie 
Brickley's New York Giants, which played Alexander, AU-Ameri- 
can of Syracuse; Dadmun, of Harvard; Jemail, of Brown. Take 
the Philadelphia Quakers and Miller, of Penn ; Youngstrom, of 
Dartmouth. Buffalo Ail-Americans had Oliphant, of the Army ; 
Spagna, of Lehigh. Such is the type of American manhood en- 
gaged in the professional sport. Shall these athletes be villified? 

I can mention a hundred men whom I have played with in 
college and pro ball, or against personally, from Brickley, of 
Harvard, to Strupper, of Georgia Tech, and they're all clean. 

Is it not possible for men to make a living from professional 
football, like Brickley, who still dons a moleskin, although almost 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



y//////s/ys/s/s/s/s/s//?/s////MMW?////a^^ 



bald-headed, or Guyon of Georgia Tech, or Jim Thorpe, of 
Carlisle? 

Football is on the wall. Colleges can take it or leave it. The 
public, away from the college campus, has long accepted it as in 
Philadelphia, Buffalo, Canton, Akron, Dayton, Bridgeport and 
elsewhere. 

Somewhere in the bushes is a Simon the Just who can cure 
the cancer. 



DELIRIUM TREMENS OF A LIQUOR HEAD. 

Freely the fiery fluid flowed, 

Driving dull care away, 
From pickled Sam, the human dram, 

And this he had to say: 

"I was a son of wealth and pomp, 
But now I'm a reprobate ; 
Cursing the day when I got gay 
And drank my first phosphate. 

"I had money and friends galore, 
Whose praise was never stale, 
As long as I could satisfy 
Their thirst for Ginger Ale. 

"My mother said, 'Dear, cut out the near beer,' 
But I, in a scornful tone; 
Said, T know what's in it, and I know my limit — 
I can take it or leave it alone.' 

"So I parched my lips with vanilla dips, 
A cherry and fruit salad; 
'Till one bawdy night I came home a sight 
And faced my poor old dad. 

" 'Sammy,' said he, 'I've oft warned thee 

From Sundaes to abstain; 
As son of mine you must resign — 
Never darken my door again.' 



8 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

"So I left my home the world to roam, 
My hopes were broken in two ; 
Look at this sot and you will see what 
The curse of drink will do. 

"And my girl, yes, I had a girl, 

Than whom none were more fair; 
She called me a brother but married another, 
Who did not drink or swear. 

"She tried her best to curb my zest 
For Grape Juice and Frappe ; 
And once I swore I'd drink no more, 
But always sober stay. 

"But one wild night to be polite, 
('Twas in the bleak December), 
I drank a toast to a charming host ; 
That's all I can remember. 

"And when that day I called on Fay — 
And when we came to grips — 
Oh, Gawd, forgive me, for there was 
A milk shake on my lips!" 



Arthur Neale told the Skipper that no remarks should be made con- 
cerning women's clothes, as there wasn't enough to discuss. 



LITES AND LAUZ 

Green Lights 

How 1 ' I hate them, 

Relics of evolution, 

Beacons of dissolution. 

Red lights 

How I love them, 

Martyrs of evolution, 

Speeders of dissolution. 

Blue Laws 

How I curse them, 

Have changed the joys of red 

Into the law's green ones. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka- Jazza 9 

JOTTINGS ON THE BUNKO WAY 

The Bunko Game is shuttling once more despite the work oL the 
Boxing Commission and Tex Rickard. Talk about Barnum — he lived ahead 
of his time. The Wrestling Trust has him skinned forty different ways. 
Cash customers galore visited the Garden the other night and the Wrest- 
ling Fraternity, with the exception of Stecker, went through their tricks. 
Zbyszko retained his title, Caddock losing by two falls. We'll see Sfecker 
vs. Zbyszko, then Lewis and perhaps Marin Plestina. That is, if the 
Boxing Commission follows Chicago's League and bars the Trust Wrest- 
lers, unless the champion meets Plestina. New York is open foj the 
Trust, but its days are numbered. If Zbyszko is all he claims to be, why 
hasn't he accepted Rickard's offers of a purse of $25,000 for a match 
with Plestina. Otherwise, it behooves the promoters to match the two 
Zbyszko and for once a shooting match may occur. 

Now that Billy Gibson and Tex Rickard are bosom friends again, 
Leonard is showing at the Garden. The Boxing Fraternity is well pleased 
since Benny has not played his home town in a long time. Kilbane in the 
Featherweight Division, and Wilson in the Middleweight, are sitting very 
uncomfortably, as Harry Greb looks like the next Middleweight Champ, 
and unless Kilbane don't get too old, his next opponent will most likely 
be crowned champ. Dempsey is warming up for a scrap — challengers 
come and go — but there is only one man fit to give him a fight and that 
is not Tom Gibbons, but a black shadow in the person of Harry Wills, 
Brady has started the ball rolling. The chances are Tex himself will 
cop the match since the demands of the cash box fraternity are increasing. 



Good Men Go To Waste 

If Darwin had spent one half the time observing moonshine 
as in studying the worms he'd have been given the necessary 
kick to reach Mars, study Neptune at close range and caused 
the sisters to Jazza-Ka-Jazza at the pearly gates. ) 



10 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

LOONY LETTERS 

(Published in the Psychopathic Ward) 

Salwashun Arme, Noo Yoik, en y. 

Deer Army: Recently (abowt 6 mo. ago) I saw a poster bareing the 
following inscreeepshun: — "A man may be down OBER hez never out!" — 
signed "Salwashun Army." 

My dead pipples — Hear I am, a honest man, wonst full mit wim 
wigor and witality. I couldnt raiz mi rent so I got shoved DOWN a 
flite of stares and kicked OUT into de crool hot woild. A man may be 
down but hez never out? How do 3-ou get dat way. 

When I wuz born I did not own a shoelace and all these years I 
have struggled and at last wen I wuz beginnin to succeed and owned a 
pair of shoelazes, my luck changed before I could get a pare of shuz. 

A «#in can stand fisic-al suffering but its hard to stand mental suffer- 
ing. I want to join yor army befour its stew late. Opposit my office 
lives a handsum maiden who has a habit of standing by her window 
every mornin dressed in an animal skin (I think they call it Bear) and 
here I am forced to gaze every mornin carruptin my morals an . . an . . 
my gosh, sstarible! 

Pleez send yore man here to take me away and save my sole. Smooch 
obli. Yores truly, 

I. M. DUMM. 



ROCK HOUNDS OF TOMORROW 

Future archeologists probably will decipher the basalt hieroglyphics 
of the Palisades as follows: 

1918 — Prohibition adopted. 

1922 — First crop of wood-alcohol deaths. 

1924 — Death rate increases. 

1925 — Prohibition enforced by death sentence (100,000 more deaths). 

1926 — Izzy Einstein pinched his ten thousandth bootlegger. 

1930 — Football abolished— too rough. 

1931 — Soviet Russia recognized by U. S. A. 
- 1931 — Ping-pong adopted as national pastime. 

1935 — Blue Laws forbid automobile riding on Sabbath ; horse racing, 
gambling, boxing, punishable with lethal gas. 

1940— Exodus of 5,000,000 to Cuba. 

1945_Exodus of 1,000,000 by aerometer to Mars. 

1950—1,000,000 died from wood alcohol. 

1952 — Professor Devrdrop discovered moonshine in sunlight. (Pun- 
ished by death.) 

1954 — 10,000,000 hooch hounds emigrated to Guatemala. 

1955 — Germany pays last mark of war debt. 

1956 — Henry Ford's nitrate plant turned out its first batch of fertilizer. 

I960 — Wood alcohol deaths increasing. 

1975 — -Last group of anti-wood alcohol drinkers fighting for life on 
Palisades. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 11 

SOLDIER-FORTUNING IN THE TROPICS 1 

) * 




SOMETHING that would tickle the old windpipe and bring tears to 
the eyes was what I sought yesterday. Through streets and hotels! 
I rambled but not a drink of the real stuff was in sight And then I 
met Louis Betancourt, a marimba player at one of the Broadway jazz 
palaces, and it made me think of the first time I ran across him, in revolu- 
tionary Guatemala. / 

Oh that oasis of the western world, Guatemala! I take my*hat off 
to it. Hard to reach, but once there t he elix ir of life for afflictions of the 
bronchial tubes. 



At the first signs of revolution in that brewing pot, ndt-sa__many 
moons ago, I hastened southward. Instructors of the World War wer*_ 
in demand, and the usual thirty days wait of passports was dispensed with 
by shipping from "N'Awleens" as "ordinary" on the United Fruit boat, 
Coppename, touching at Belize, British Honduras, and Porta Barrios, 
Guatemala. It was on that voyage that the Swede bo'sun said I did not 
have enough sea-brains to fill a gnat's head, and I heartily agreed with 
him. For company I had another soldier of fortune, Harry Johnson, of 
Washington, formerly in the navy, who was on a like mission. It was 
discovered later that his services were nil, for the fleet of the little Central 
American power did not comprise a bumboat. 

IN the harbor of Barrios, lay the converted yacht of Goulds, 
now the U.S. Gunboat Niagara. From her a detachment of 
marines and "gobs" had been sent to the capital city to protect 
the American Legation. But the Blue-jackets who remained 
were given a heated workout the day we steamed into port, 
for underneath our hatches we carried 1,000 tons of bunker 
coal for the gunboat. 

We tied up to her and all day the "gobs," stripped to the buff, 
coaled their vessel. Now and then one of the gunboat's crew 
would slip below deck of the Coppename, only to return with a 
suspicious looking bulge on his hip. 

The first tropical night in port we were told that the revolu- 
tion was in full sway- The unionista was rising. But there 
still appeared time for us to emulate Lee Christmas, the Ameri- 



12 Cap'n Joey's J»zza-Ka-Jazza 



mmss&*M/MW*/miMf*/m'Ar/rjim'MrMm4&^^ 



can who for many years led the forces, of the Republic of Span- 
ish Honduras. 

Porto Barrios equals fruit wharf, fruit company warehouses, 
a hundred stinking nipa huts, two Chinese shops, and a railroad 
station that links it with the capital city. A miasmic swamp 
hugs it on one side and a fetid shore on the other, so shallow 
that vultures stalked about picking gruesome morsels. Here at 
tidewater mingle transplanted Jamaica niggers and the upland 
Carib Indians,. 

With our share of sailor wages in our dungarees, Johnson 
and I made our way over the duckboard calles. Behind the 
cluster of banana fronds, following the path through the lush 
growth, we came onto a weathered, unpainted shack disting- 
uished in large letters, "Sailor's Home." What a home it was ! 
Well named for it reaped an annual harvest from which many 
a sujee worker never saw the briny deep again. Here, a thous- 
and miles south of New Orleans, within the pestilental lands 
of the tropics, racked the sound from a battered Victrola, a 
song number popular, ante bellum, that I'd heard at the Ho- 
boken docks three years before. A sputtering oil lamp toned 
the ugliness of naked walls, bare, save for a cheap portrait of 
Spain's Alphonso. 

To the monotonous cackling of "Keep the Home Fires Burn- 
ing," "Smiles," and other bygone pieces, the rough floor thum- 
ped with the boots of sailormen as they gavorted round with 
dusky maidens of Mexico and Carib ancestors and forgotten 
antecedents. The couples swung round and round, shimmying. 

When the Victrola wheezed its raucous finis, the dancers and 
the stags lounged to the bar, where an ugly bloated Mexican 
wench handed over the refreshments which consisted of a bitter 
mixture of native lightning, a nickle a shot, or Irish whiskey, 
Canadian Club, at twenty cents a drink. 

The leering faces were too much for Johnson and I, and we 
made our way to the office of the port el commandants and 

his handful of barefoot Caribs garbed in nondescript overalls 
with patches of red for epaulets and equipped with a rusty, 
smooth-bore carbines. I thought of the morrow when we 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 13 



'/imssssss/r/mw's/r/ssfs/r/r/r//^^^ 



should be far up in the hills, probably a mark for a Spic's 
mauser- 

Sometime later when the good Irish whiskey had worked 
from head to toe, Johnson and I retraced our steps, to the 
"Sailor's Home." At our back whispered the heated breath 
that spells Tropics. But the door of the house was padlocked 
and the screech of the Victrola was stilled. On account of the 
revolution all roistering- ceased at nine o'clock. Notwithstand- 
ing, under the deep shadows of the plantain trees hovered 
groups. And Johnson caught sight of a comely jade who was 
dancing a dervish rigadoon in the filter of light. 

The clothes she had on were a whole lot less than some of the 
Broadway flappers wear, and then some, and she snuggled up 
to Johnson ; the tropical moon wafted a lullaby to his liquor- 
seeped head, and then I hurried back to the ship. 

At daybreak the two of us tossed our dunnage bags over the 
port rail onto the dock, and a short time later we slipped 
through the Commissioner of Customs, hurried to the narrow 
gauge, where once a day a mixed train of passengers, freight 
and oil tanks moved across the hills, over the desert, and 5,000 
feet above sea level to Guatemala City and the revolution. 

(Next month in the midst of the revolution.) 



"I'm going to live on Washington Heights," the bride-to-be cried. 
"Oh, you'll be on the heights, all right," said her friend. 



SCANDAL. 



"Scandal" is a new dance craze which gives the impression of a 
wiggling hesitation, a modern St. Vitus. It starts in the vicinity of the 
equator and fluctuates north and south, east and west. 



14 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



v/s////////////////////////////M/y/s///////////////////^^^^ 



F. LAPPER'S BOOZE BLUES 

Put the ice on my head; 

Put the hot rock on my feet; 
Don't let me get cold, 

And don't bring me near the heat. 

I went out last night 

To a big street fair; 
We didn't have much fun before, 

But we surely got it there. 

My head began to spin around, 

The lights began to blink; 
I don't know what I said or did — 

I simply couldn't think. 

Four and twenty drinks around, 

The boys began to sing; 
We went right back into the fair 

And took in everything. 

I really started talking then; 

Told everything I knew; 
Where the rum-runners flourished, 

And where the marihuanas grew. 

I couldn't get my clothes off, 

I couldn't catch the bed; 
I tried to kiss my hubby 

And kissed the floor instead. 

I'll take a drink when I find it; 

And another if I get it free; 
But I'll be gosh-whang-doodled 

If I'll go on another spree. 



ATHOLL AGAIN 



The Duke of Atholl, newly appointed Lord Chamberlain, is 
the only person entitled to maintain a private army in Great 
Britain. There are 300 Atholl men in his army. 



SCHACHTENS 

Love built by a s.chachten is undone by the rabbi. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 15 



1 JELLY BEANS AND CAKE EATERS 

t 

'if 



Cap'n Joey: — Your book is full of pep and fear. The 
stuff we want is not here. 

Cambert Rochefort 

What do you want for two-bits? The Razzberry? 

Dear Cap'n: — Can you give a definition of a cake-eater. 

Nova 

He ranges in age from eighteen to twenty-five, and 
would have been called a "sissy" several years ago. He 
is an affinity of the flapper. 

Dear Skipper: — What are the athletic activities of a 
"cake eater." Cecil 

He could'nt bat .030 on a baseball diamond but he hits 
.666 on a jazz floor. 

O' Cap'n: — Paris has decreed women must change hair- 
dressing- styles so their ears show. I have horrid ears 
but beautiful — er, you know. Sylvia Wood 

Sylvia: Am very glad you are modest; I would ad- 
vise that you continue to show your calves and hide your 
ears. 



16 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

DADDY DEEPER'S DEMI-TASSE. 

Breadwinner Motke Chobat says if you wear 'em high he'd 
like to stick around. 

There are fifty-seven varieties of moonshine, prohibition, 
revenue officers, but the kick is the only effect. 

The pickle'd dame is not an affinity of the pickled beet. 

Jazza-Ka-Jazza is like a hot-house plant — a few warm words 
in cold weather 

Bread may be the staff of life but there are all kinds of staffs. 

To choose discretion to valor is, to steal a quart from the 
deacon's cellar instead of drinking the home brew. 

• ! Flaustina in ancient Rome once said that any woman with 
a husband twenty years her senior must be allowed a lover or 
two. 

What is needed today is another prophet to f ortell the durat- 
ion of the Volstead drought- 
Did you ever notice that a girl always observes the other 
girl, criticizes her clothes, face, figure. This is a woman's 
Derogative, but let a fellow do it, especially when he's walking 
with his sweet mamma and he'll mention the mole on her face 
when as a matter of fact he was admiring a dimple on her 
knee.. 

Clothes play a part in Cupid's pranks altho the little fellow 
goes naked, but does not allow his votaries, to do likewise. 
However, give some of our broads time. Eve made her debut 
with a leaf and type may yet revert. 

The rolled down hose, cigarettes, cosmetics, open-work 
stockings, are secondary sexual manifestations. Nakedness 
like Venus coming from the sea would probably sober us. 

Chasing chickens will not feather your nest. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 17 



"If 
-if 

Professor Hardpickle's Geometric Equations 



:s 

-ie 

-V- 



Axiom I 

A cake-eater and a flapper traveling unequal planes will 
meet. 

Axiom II 

A man's wife is his better half. 

Postulation I 

A bee-line is, the shortest distance between Van Wood's drug 
store and the thirsting population- 

Postulation II 

The clothes of a flapper stretched both ways will never touch 

Postulation III 

A single quart is that which hath many parts and considerable 
distribution. 

IN NEW ORLEANS 

If you see my bootlegger down the bayou, you chase him 
home, yes. 

Jazzy-Dizzy Tzzy-Razzbo-Wozo-Jazz-Razz-Dazz. 
Cake-eaters new drink — a brunette libido- 
Squirrel chasers new food — a blonde sublimation. 
Mary's little cat which ate up all the yarn and when the cat 

had kittens they were born with sweaters on. 
I like my liquor strong and my women weaker. 
The boys in France found it necessary to master the French 

language by sleeping with a long-haired dictionary. 

Pall-berries are not kin to dingle berries. 



18 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

COOINGS FROM THE COOTIE CLUB 

'ft- w 






A flapper may be down but she's never out. 

The next dance sensation is the St. Vitus which is a contag- 
ious disease with lounge lizards, nickle nurses and wall flowers. 

Many cooties love without loving anyone. 

The news butcher in the Metropolitan Building says the girls 
love to buy the cigarettes whos. boxes read "Push this end." 

Men are known by the company they keep — -and some would 
like worse company. 

To illustrate that professors, doctors, and men with appendages 
to their cognomens are after all only human beings like the rest of 
this mortal clay, Professor Ralph Culver Bennett, D.C.L., L.L.D. 
and A.B., rang the doorbell of Professor William H. Carpenter, 
A.B., Ph.D. (both celebrated in "Who's Who") too long and too 
brusquely recently. Professor Carpenter hit Professor Bennett with 
a cane and knocked off an L.L.D. 

SAYS VENUS IS DEAD 

Professor E. St. John, director of Wilson Observatory, Cali- 
fornia, asserts that the planet Venus supports no life. — There 
is a countless horde of the Venus specie on Mother Earth, who, 
far from being dead, are raising the tombstones with their 
vivacity, bare knees and southern exposure. 

CO-EDS RAISE STANDARD 

Co-eds, at Northwestern University have taken advice from 
Dr. Mary Gilruth McEwen who addressed a Pan-Hellenic meet- 
ing. She approved of them rolling a little lower and wearing 
their skirts a little higher. And don't wear corsets, she re- 
minds, them. 

The male students unanimously approve and say take 'em all 
off — their eyes can stand the strain. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 19 

JAZZINGS FROM COAST TO COAST 

Felix Shay, of East Aurora, whose writing ability makes him 
the Irish Elbert Hubbard. 

Upton Sinclair, of Pasadena, who would rather fight an ed- 
itor than eat. 

Harry Weinberger, Union "Square - attorney, who dines at the 
Ritz on Monday and hot tomales with President Obregon by- 
Saturday. """ ^ 

Henry Meyer whose trip to Paris, makes him look Fremrhy. 

Chief Alder who played black jack while Tulsa burned. 

Ivan Grove, the University of Tulsa star, whose statue has 
crumbled to dust since he was defeated by a bunch of he-men 
from high altitude. 

George M. Cohan, who returned to the States because he 
over-looked his flags. 

Farmer Lodge, the Minneapolis heavyweight, whose man- 
ager forgot to pay his sparring partner the night Carl Morris 
knocked him for a row. 

"JAZZA-KA-JAZZA" 

(Pronounced) 

New York — Jazzuh-Kuh-Jazzuh. 
Boston — Jahzuh-Kuh-Jahzuh. 
New Orleans — Jayz-Kuh-Jayz. 
San Francisco — Jazzuh-Kay-Jazz. 
Hickville — Jazzy-Key- Jazzy. 
English — Jawzuh-Kuh-Jawzuh. 
French — Zyah-zee' — Kah — Zyah-zah'. 
Swedish — Yahzuh-Kuh-Yahzuh. 
German — Chahzuh-Kah-Chahzuh. 
Hungarian — Jahtzuh-Kuh-Jahtzuh. 
Spanish — Hahzuh-Kuh-Hahzuh. 
Irish — Jaizes-Kph-Jaizes. 
Hebrew — Izzy-Kah-Izzy. 

WHEN HUBBY IS AWAY 

Poor Jack — I slept all last night with him. My husband's 
out of town, but I'm afraid that Jack is going to die. I love to 
have him snuggle close to me these winter nights. I had the 
doctor over twice, but he dosn't hold hopes for him. When I 
called him by name this morning he feebly wagged his tail. 



20 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

MARK ANGRY'S SPEECH 

OVER THE BODY OF J. 

(CAESAR) BARLEYCORN 

MARK: 
"Friends, Rum 'Uns, Countrymen, lend me your ears ; 
I come to bury Whiskey; and to praise it! 
The alcohol men drink lives after them 
The 'wood' is oft interred with their bones ; 
(Remember Christmas!) So let it be with Whiskey, 
For Whiskey was an honorable drink — 
So were they all — all honorable drinks, 
- The old Martinis — little Puss-Cafes — 
Manhattans, rickeys, Old Jack Roses too, 
Which bloom no more ! Alas, upon the vines, 
Where grapes have run now feeds the placid cow, 
And bar-rooms with the sawdust on the floor, 
(And patrons, too, anon) are closing up ; 
Where once the brown, ecstatic hops held sway ; 
Where once the bodied bourdon parked its kick, 
Where once the muses ruled — alas is now 
An arid desert, rented out to those 
Who operate the cigar stores and the like; 
Oh, God, that I should live to see such times, 
With Union Squares honorable dump — 
(So are they all — all honorable dumps) 
A market place for chain-shop shirts and such; 
Or e'en for food and steaks, though succulent : 
Yon Charlie hath a lean and hungry look, 
Such men are dangerous, they b^t too much, 
Upon the dogs that run around the track. 
Let me have men about me who are fat, 
Fat-heads, like John, who play the register 
In which they place the wealth of customers, 
By touch, while ringing up the daily sales, 
Although they've made a million since July, 
We grudge it not, although we often fear, 
He's sold us Bevo claiming it was beer." 

(Alarms and excursions — to the bar — without. 
Enter hautboy, bearing REAL BEER !) 

CHORUS OF GUESTS: 
"Glorious Beer, ah, would that I could sink 
My muzzle in thy foam for years to come ; 
Here, boy, a cup of Sack — I'm dry as dust, 
We'll drink the stuff until we're like to bust !" 

(Waiters fill the flagons while patrons 
weep quietly in a corner.) 

MARK: 
"Now on this night when all the gods do weep, 
I'll call upon the mourners here by name ; 
Some few may have a tearful word to say, 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 21 

For one, whose head has long been white 
Whose 'indoor tan' is of the bourbon brand ; 
Or of the overwhelming paunch, 
He buys it not, and yet he drinks it still ; 
And — while the stuff's procurable — he will!" 

(Alarms without ; enter Hinky Dinks in great haste.) 

HINKY DINK 

"Good Gentlemen, give heed ! Calamity, 

Hath settled on my unsuspecting head ; 

Downstairs but now, while patrons I did serve, 

With fine distilled liquors from my stock, 

('Twas noble liquor, gentlemen, be sure, 

Half varnish and half hair oil, of per cent. 

As high as any bourbon ever sold) 

I thought, since 'twas the Wake of Barleycorn, 

I'd break a rule and pour a lib'ral drink, 

And so I said "When" to two old guys, 

Who've been my customers these many months — 

And now the one is dead upon the floor. 

His heart gave out beneath the shock, 'tis said, 

While t'other pours my bonded whiskey out, 

Until it overflows upon the bar, 

And laughs insanely as he sees it run. 

And neither will say 'When !' Ah woe is me, 

I do regret the guy who died, forsooth, 

But I regret the other baby more, 

Who pours and laughs to see it on the floor!" 

(Rushes sobbing from the room and disappears 
below, where presently the sound of ghoulish laughter 
is stilled by the sounds of a shot.) 

MARK (Continuing) : 

"Oh, judgment, thou bast fled to brutish breasts. 

And men have lost their reason — and their booze; 

There sits the mark of an unquenched woe, 

Too deep for utterance. And too ! 

No more the heels will climb, 

With drunken tread, the Mont Marte's stairs at night ! 

(Pointing to the corpse of J. B.) 
"Here he lies ; 

The friend of man who's lifted man's estate, 
Above the carking cares that bind the world ! 
See what a dent Old Casca Bryan made, 
And here is where the knife of Anderson, 
Did rend our noble friend. And here's the wound, 
Oh, weep for Caesar, ye who've tears to shed. 
While the country in sorrow hides its head !" 

(Chorus of guests, hosts and supernumeraries to 
the air of the Dead March") 



//////////////////////////////////^^^^^ 



22 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

UNDER THE VILLAGE CHESTNUT TREE 






Greenwich Village Knights — one of them was found full 
after the Webster Hall soiree and wended his way to Izzy Ein- 
stein's cellar to become fuller. To date he hasn't returned and 
the admission must be, he found pleasant company. 

He was a patriarch in skullcap as he ambled across Washing- 
ton Square. Under his breath he mumbled : "Piece of eight — 
pieces of eight," a la Stevenson. At last he paused in the lee 
of the Brevoort where he fell on his, knees and licked the pave- 
ment. About him was the broken bottle of precious three 
star Hennessy. 

A village equation : Brushes and palette equal ham and eggs,. 

Might is Right says the villager who sees the man s,he wants 
and keeps him- 

The apertif absorbers hereabouts, are few during the days 
of the drought. 

Frank Shay says he wouldn't put Jazza-Ka-Jazza even under 
the radiator with the Quill. He knows a warm baby when he 
sees one. 

The Wandering Jew left his, Broadway abode to meet one 
of the Grena (dears) behind the Rose Bush in The Bamboo 
Forest. He was going to give her a Pagan paen when he heard 
The Pig and Whistle of The Mad Hatter. The Redhead of the 
Greenwich Villager sneaked on him and Shay-ed him to The 
Green Witch in The Pirates, Den who mounted him on the 
Blue Horse of Christines and he fell Three Steps Down to the 
Greenwich Village Inn where gathered the Jolly Friars of 
Greenwich Village Nights on The Hearthstone. They thrust 
him in The Pepper Pot with the Purple Pup stuck full of Quills 
and The Green Feather in the Blue Bird. The Village Weavers 
from the Black Cat with Washington Mews proved a T.N.T. 
in disguise and a Fifth Avenue bus from Romany was Blue 
Paradise of Sonias to carry the Wandering Jew uptown to The 
Demi-Virgin. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 23 

VILLAGE ADVANCEMENT 

Newspapers, peridocials and sJummers sporatically criticize 
the ways of the Village. To the uninitiated the cognomen 
Greenwich is synonomous of a sin-fest Gehenna, of Bachallil- 
ian orgies where creeds, philosophy and morals are scattered 
to the winds. But the concrete exhibition presents itself in the 
light that law and order reigns,. In fact there is a tendency of 
radical feminists to marry the fathers of their offspring. Baby 
carriages have became a radical institution. In the ranks are 
many who have become tax-payers,, possessors of marriage lic- 
enses and other habliments of custom impedimenta. 

Erysiplas, the Cap'ns dog robber, bemoans the fact that he 
cleans the cuspidor, picks, the typewriter, sweeps the floor and 
drinks the drinks moonshine drummers leave, and uses all the 
dead head dance tickets. 

The other night he went to Cynthia's Ball in which all the 
Villagers, frolicked. The Cap'n didn't go, as he hadn't been 
able to waken since his army buddies, Rock and Rye, put him 
to sleep. This was the terse version of Erysipalas : 

"Good time, everyone. Lots masqueradors. Lots liquor. 
One fellow tiger-skin on only. Tiger slip. He look like Adam. 
One girl saw, said, keep out cat, the canary's out" 

BOOTLEGGING BOOKLEGGERS 

Censorship of books probably will come in the Prohibition 
wake. Bootlegging books will be the business of those wishing 
to tempt the Devil. Moonshine printing machines will be 
hunted in the wilds of Greenwich Village. Village attics will 
be pillaged for bootleg booksellers. Off Ambrose Channel ships 
from foreign shores will be open for those wishing to imbibe 
in illicit moonshine-book entertainment. Authors will ply their 
nefarious vocation far from the scent of hooch-hounds. Havana 
and Montreal will be the mecca for the thirsty word chasers. 
Booksellers will be prohibited from dispensing near books con- 
taining one-tenth of one per cent kick- Illicit book bars will 
handle books at bootleg prices. 

April Fools — slummers to Chinatown. 

Jellybeans and cake-eaters are living off the fat of the land 
now that the tax has been taken from ice cream and sodas. 

To scintilate with sun-maids it is necessary to eat raisins. 



24 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

Chinese Costumes Make Bootlegging Disguises 

At the recent Greenwich Village dance at Webster Hall, 
some of the natives de femme tripped past the pure blue-coat 
tricked out in capacious, Chinese costumes. Once inside the 
hall the Oriental costume was discarded for ultra-modern, and 
proved to be a magazine for the thirsty. The net results were 
that painted butterflies on the epidermis, of the damosels would 
have shamed the famous Mesopotamian leaf. One live butter- 
fly actually fluttered from the terra firma of a radiant and pink 
skin and 20-20 vision was not lacking. Some Villagers, cos- 
tumed as Mother Eve were festooned with heaps of fig-leaves. 

Villagers inaugurated the fashion of bobbed hair and rolled 
hose and folks spoke of the sophistry of the Square. Nowadays 
all flappers cut 'em as close and roll'em as low as possible and 
the laymen term it advancement. 

A Villager who is a genius with the cornet and at the same 
time somewhat of a jackas.s, on every occasion he blows, his 
room is brayed with jazz. 

A Villager's Conception 

The Milky Way is only another Prohibition evolution and 
the Pleiades,, a second Bronx Cocktail. Then, too, the Great 
Dipper is certain to become full when Venus, with grisly Nep- 
tune peering from his maritime depths,, disrobes at sunrise. 
Blood-thirsty Mars and Father Jupiter probably will tarry in 
the Eclipse of the Moon at the Great Bear rendezvous. While 
the Northern Lights are trimmed down the two will battle for 
possession of the Goddess of the Dawn. Wicked, wild and wooly 
Aureleus Borealis, from the frozen north, will yearn zenith- 
ward to estrange evanescent Southern Cross. During the long 
hours of darkness, the Moon will nestle in the lap of Mother 
Earth and in the morn the Sun is born. 

Carlo Buggs was admitted to the insane asylum yesterday. 
He went nutty when he sent a story to a magazine and they 
accepted it. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka- Jazza 25 

JAIL HOUSE BLUES 

I lay in the jail with my face to the wall, 
And a red-headed woman was the cause of it all. 
He sat on the brewery wall and his feet touched booze. — 

Longfellow 
Love is never mutual — one loves and the other consents to 
be loved. 

On Easter many women will attend church more to be seen 
than to see- 

MONTREAL, WE HEAR YOU CALLLING 

From Montreal comes the information that the Quebec Liq- 
uor Commission will open a wine shop for women, managed 
by members of the fair s,ex. 

FLAPPERS FLOPPED 

Professor Herman Home of New York University says that 
a flapper is, a person who prefers ignorance to the truth, who 
can dictate to her parents at home, who has a conscience which 
does not bother her, who prefers to learn the seamy side of life 
from experience. — 

It is the belief of Jazza-Ka-Jazza that the professor forgot 
his spectacles the day he cogitated on the flapper. 

For Once Professor Spoke Sense 

Dr. Elizabeth Thelberg, instructor in physiology at Vassar 
College said, "I know nothing prettier than the calf of a young 
woman. 



A plan's, hip is his castle. 
A man's cellar is his fort. 
A man's distillery is his keeper. 

Celeste says she gained ten pounds on her vacation. 

Many a man who can hardly be induced to write to his 
mother will take chances of getting shot by writing to another 
man's wife. 



26 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

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It's, a couple months since Eva Tanguay, of the "I don't care" 
fame, graced the boards anew. From accounts, Eva has been 
"knocking" 'em cold and the wonder is how soon one of the 
corn-feds come to town and think thev saw a chicken- 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 27 

Ted Lewis,, the Original Jazza-Ka-Jazza king, and Doraldina, 
famous hula-hula dancer pulled their stuff keen the other night 
at the new house of Jazz that Ted has opened at 52nd and 7th 
Avenue. Ted was better than the occasion I last saw him in, 
the Greenwich Village Follies, but Doraldina — words can not 
describe her efforts, with that hula-hula dance, fish net gar- 
ment, exposing all the rotunds and ensembles of the things 
artists talk about more than they paint. 

What a lot of movie folks there are in the hotels and clubs. 
Hollywood must be depopulated, or New York's raisin wine 
is the lure that draws Los Angeles celebrities,. The Arbuckle 
case, although considerably hushed down, still is the most in- 
teresting movie topic of the day. 

Headhunting is the same on Broadway or the Phillipines. 
Heads no longer count. It's, legs. 

The Jazzhound met genial Van Woods of Baton Rouge the 
other day. He is fat, forty and faultless, but at his age he 
ranks, as one of the best gridiron players in the United States. 
Van's business is running a drug store, but between times he 
plays poker in the Elk's, Club across the way, and bets on the 
University's Eleven. Once he bet everything but his shirt. 
For years the position of stake-holder was his, and his genial 
countenance has unarmed the opposing holder that he would be 
so nefarious as to take any more of the line than is, his due. 
In such a manner Van has pilfered inches that have won many 
a game. More power to Van. 

Certain stage and society queens carry perfumed monkeys, 
and there probably are many who would be willing to pet those 
monkeys. 

The other day the Jazzhunter walked into a Broadway music 
store and the first thing too catch his eye was, "A Kiss in the 
Garden of Love," for 25c. A little further on he came to "Tuck 
me to Sleep" for 20c, than "What Can a Girl Do" for 15c-, "I 
Wonder" for 10c, and way over in the corner, "Everybody's 
Doing It" for 5c 

HE KNEW HIS STUFF 

Ben Franklin said : "Let thy maid servant be strong, faith- 
ful and homely. 






28 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



7 '4f 'I f'l f 'ffi l~"i 



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JAZZING AROUND 



It is Jazzed about : 

That a certain "Married Woman" known as the "Green God- 
dess," but not classed as one of the "Foolish Wives" with "Face 
Value" only, has turned "Demi-Virgin." 

That a "Sailor Made Man" is successfully following "The 
Ghocolate Sailor." 

That "Captain Applejack" has acted "The Perfect Fool" with 
the wife of "The Grand Duke" who has now Brought "A Bill 
of Divorcement" against the "Wild Cat." 

That "Bombo" has, "Just Married" "Anna Christie" and "The 
Critics" says there is great "Danger" they won't "Get Togeth- 
er." 

That "Bluebeard's 8th Wife" thru "Lawful Larceny" ob- 
tained her glad "Rags" by stripping "The White Peacock." 

That "The Grim Comedian" — "He Who Gets Slapped" has 
caught "Tangerine" and is now forced to "Shuffle Along." 

That "The Pigeon"— "Marjolain" in "Frank Fay's; Fables" 
after a "Midnight Frolic" in "The Nest" of another bird, forever 
after kept on making a peculiar noise that seemed to sound 
like "Thank U." 

That "The Voice from the Minaret" says "The Czarina" is, 
still alive incog, on "The Varying Shore" with "Bulldog Drum- 
mond" and "Orphans of the Storm." 

That "The Squaw Man" has been seen on the "Dover Road" 
with "Sally" and "Ki-Ki." 

That during "A Red Hot Romance" last "Saturday Night" 
the "Wild Cat" was. on "Pins and Needles." 

That when the "Mountain Man" with his "Six Cylinder Love" 
came down "In May" to indulge in "The Village Follies" the 
"Lilies of the Field" sang their "National Anthem" — "Good 
Morning Dearie" and played for him on their "Music Box" 
until he was "Up in the Clouds." 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 29 

BLOO LAW BLUES 

THE deep-eyed son of a gun, dumped in the sewer all the rum, all the 
hootch, all the hootch but one. A quart of old booze that hit his 
eye, quick of hand he hid on the sly — bottle of old aged-in rye. 
Hidden from the ken of day, slopt his entrails in a deadly way, made from 
the weed that grows like hay. Thus ends those who lie and die, whose 
mouths slobber with pigs in a sty, pervaricate and shout and cry. To 
old Blue Law Prohi it befell to travel far from the churchly bell, the 
slimy skids of path to Hell — Dante' Inferno league below' Reno this 
large domain of Satan below, guart by dinosaurs of long ago; Satan 
markt the path the led where Prohis are forbidden to tread — the haven 
of forgotten dead. 

Beside a still a group did quaff — Merry Falstaff, Poe with joy and 
laugh, Nero and Rip Winkle with his staff; Cleopatra from the Nile, 
robed in but a 'Gyptian smile, nest close with Anthony awhile. Here 
lounged mighty Hercules, on grassy couch with amorous Cerces, in 
close embrace that lets love not cease. Loving beneath Plutonic Sun, 
as back in Eden in year of one, Adam and Eve in leaf-less fun. Samson 
and King Lionhearted, drank English ale before they parted. Then 
King took Rowena instead. Sheba and wise Solomon renewed the tryst 
of Jerusalem beneath great cedars from Lebanon. Louis Fourteenth, 
with eight women — garbed but with a lone ribbon — in Satan's bath 
splashed in swimmin'; wore Rex but his royal diadem, ladies clothed 
'neath tree with Adam — made a sprig's young heart a-gladden. While 
Jasper fed his thirsting Fleece golden pearls of Kaintuck's late demise 
bringing life to her mummy decease. And such was the ghetto that knew 
not a virgin, in the abode of those who sin, no man toiled or had to spin. 

"Be gone," cried Satan, "PROHI, hence, or rots your carcass on yon 
fence; my domain hold but honest tents." 

Escorted to Saint Peter's seat in highest vault of bluish sheet, where 
labor starts by bathing feet; prithee Censors had started well — ceased all 
chant, song, and bell, and angels sought to bide in Hell. O, the pearly 
gates are pearly no more; Blue Law censors deemed it was gore, white- 
washed bright and down tinsel tore. The heavenly twins who once went 
nude, in sackcloth sadly construed, that makes each seem a scarecrow 
dude. High heavens once a livid blue, wears deepest funeral hue, and 
to the dead all's well as its due. Here PROHI mopes each day, moans 
and moans, tries to pray an ode to Satan far away. Thus ye PROHIS 
and Blue Laws blue, so shall ye cringe, just you, only you; for Hell 
secures but Heaven's due. Forsaken of men — jest of all, enter highest 
Sahara's thrall, to seep your soul like bitter gall. 



Her crimsoned lips were treasure ships, 

Until he took a notion; 
He found her lips but painted ships 

Upon a painted ocean. 



30 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

FRUM BROADWAY 2 TEXIS 

To My Frend Red in Texis: 

High bawls that u drink, bawls that u go 2 at 2 per m. on 
the dance floar, and basebawls that u hear about now that the 
giants r slipping their rookyes 2 Texis. i expectorate that u will 
see sum of the worms that McGrub haz found in the Bushes. 

1 or 2 uv them r basebawl players but sum r gude bench warmers, 
now that's the kinde of intertainmint i hav had sinz i rote u last, 
mi grazing range hear iz frum Bowerie, ware all the bums hang 
out 2 the bronks ware awl the millyunares aught 2 b. tHat's a 
grate plais the Bronks spetiully rohnde one hundred forty 8 
streets. & 3 av. ware billy gibson hu nose a pricefiter or a horse 
wen he seez 1 & man McCullough uv racing faime live. Wei the 
olde days wen a knickle wuz a pint iz gone urounde five Points 
or wat ust 2 b it. it reminds mee uv wun wurd in a ded lan- 
guaje — sloe gin fizz, wich cumfort iz maid up bi sum nifty hefers 
hear, if thay taik offe mour awl thay will have left iz a buity 
marke i sea sum hear that im thinking thet the funktion uv the 
stummuk iz 2 holde up the petticoat, i went to 14 teenth strt. ware 
u and I ust 2 hang oute in the olde deys befour wee went to texis. 
Its sow ded now that Mister Mayer Hylan kudent finde a 
live guy at Tammany haul unless Kroker kum back. Union 
sQuare hotel wot ust 2 b kean iz nowe a 2 rater, hubers museum 
is goun. thare aint no roobs 2 trim or dek hands to josh, theyve 
goun just lik Tom Shar key and tony Pastor, the janes wea ust 

2 meat go oute four a gude time u bet but the olde gag dont 
wurk. but they hav mooved 2 brook Lyn & want u to giv them 
the city Haul with keas and awl just 2 sea them home, after awl 
it goez 2 show that gras is gras. Wauking down the Bowerie 
2day i saw several Stores showing kopper stills & worms aul 
ready for the moonshyne bisness. imagine seein that, say in 
Burkburnett or dallas. thares a gang of uptown bimBois hear 
hooz wildest dissipation is OrAnge pekoe. thares a guye 
MacFarland hoo runs the joint at tyson tiket office on 7 
avenoo. wot he dont know bout broadWay aint much. A dam- 
phool just tole mee they solde the plaice ware the 1st Bronks 
kocktail wuz maid, aul thay gott wuz 10 iron men. kin u beat it 
& i thirsting foar a drink uv enything Strongur than Hoarse- 
radish. An irishman frum russia named gest iz putting on a legie 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 31 

shoa and he gets away with moar than the demi-virgin did after 
thay tuke the demi oute. i think i'll goa uptown 2 sea this 
hoziury display so i'l rite u wen the staTue of libErty spits, 

PAL 



A NITE IN THE UNDERGROUND RIALTO 

"Gentlemen, and those who formerly were called such," admonished 
Satan to his audience seated in Pluto's fireproof, asbests playhouse, "fol- 
lowing the moving pictures we will have a reading from the latest news 
items, just shot over the A. P. wires and translated into all foreign lan- 
guages including the profane." 

With the words Satan disappeared in the hae of cigarette smoke, 
returning at the close of the moving pictures, which depicted Theda Bara 
fingering a Jew's harp at the pearly gates. Satan was tricked out as a 
Puritanic disciple of the 18th century. He was garbed in funeral black, 
stove-pipe hat and all the other habiliments of a Chicago undertaker. 
Under his arm he carried a scroll of non-inflammable parchment, which 
be slowly unrolled, and read: 

"This is the awful and odious story of 'Snitcher' which has been 
'panned' on earth in dealing with the demi-virgin number of Jazza-Ka- 
Jaza. In our tale we see Milady Snitcher avidly reading the Jazza-Ka- 
Jazza. Her small, piggish eyes gloat with unholy glints as they pounce on 
the poor coal driver episode, old in the days when Bryant first sampled 
the grape juice 'bottle. We see Master Snooper, the he-snooper of the 
Snooper family. When he receives the enlightenment of the condemned 
document he turns it over to I. M. A. Snitcher, the village fish-hound., 
who enters at the moment. 

" 'The two cry, "Have you seen the coal-man?" 

" 'I. M. A., momentarily taken off his guard, answers, "The coal- 
man — why you must think I'm in Hell and need a fire."' 

"At the moment Satan's audience rends a stage-laugh, but the Keeper 
of the Lower Lodge continues: 

"The two allow I. M. A. to read the document. Milady Snitcher is 
at one side and gazes at the copy with anxiety, her hands trembling per- 
ceptibly. At last, unable to contain her suspense, she snatches at the 
publication, crying: 'Here, let me read it again, I must tell my husband. 
This is awful.' " 

"Over her shoulders the two read the article and speak the lines 
aloud, playing over the words as though syllables were sweet and tooth- 
some. The trio leave the scene, still reading the magazine." 

Puritanic Satan paused in his tale, placed the scroll of parchment in 
the hidden folds of his coat tails, and looking upward, a tear behind his 
be-spectacled glasses, cried: 

"O damned and condemned, let us pray — for the poor coal man." 



32 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

JAZZING 'ROUND 

Breezed into Reisenwebber's the other evening to see Frisco 
and you should have seen him do the "Jazza-Ka-Jazza." 

Jumping Jazzbo! How LeRoy Smith's Jazzhounds backed 
him in. / 

Did you say "Hilda Gray? Jazz-zooks ! Just drive me to the 
Rendezvous anytime and let me see her shake in her "Jazza-Ka- 
Jazza- 

Jazzed to the St. Nicholas Rink where my friend Jo. Woodwrad 
is the jazzing leader of the orchestra. Judging from the requests 
he received he's a Jazz-hound on and off duty. 

Morton Dennison and his Society Orchestra at Healy's Balcon- 
ades play some wicked tunes. Mort is known as the violin vamp. 
The flappers say that Charlie Allan and his orchestsa at the Clar- 
endon, 135th Street, can "Jazza-Ka-Jazza" "so nice." 
Lanin's Roseland Orchestra packed them in the night I tried to 
dance, and w r hat blooming rose-buds he does attract. 

NEWSY JAZZINGS 

If you must pick a lemon, girls, pick one you can squeeze — San- 
Francisco Chronical. 

A hunchback took a drink of prohibition hooch the other day 
and straightened up. — N. Y. American. 

A raw egg will clear the voice and a rank egg will clear 1he 
stage. — San Francisco Chronical. 



Prior to the great drought a drink was a drink. Nozv a drink 
is a drunk. 

The egotistic young thing who had lately turned nineteen, in 
reply to the male clown who had passed through her life several 
years before, wrote him: "You'ought to know me nozv; I was ever 
less interesting than I am now." To which he replied: "So was Eve 
before she bit the pippin." 



Discarded Music Record. 

"Tuck Me to Sleep" by Jack Dempsey and Bee Palmer. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 33 

(Every month the keenest jazz number on Broadway 
will be published. Jazz writers must submit their songs 
early to secure participation. Martin Conroy's number 
wins the split pajamas this month.) 

THE JAZZY "JAZZA-KA-JAZZA" JAZZ 

Come on and dance the Jazzy "Jazza-Ka-Jazza," 

It makes your body shiver and sway. 

Don't let it deceive you — 

Your feet want to leave you; 

You waddle and toddle — Oh. What do you say? 

Come on and dance the Jazzy "Jazza-Ka-Jazza," 

It sounds just like the Jazziest Jazz. 

Oh! It's the craziest cabaret craze. 

It puts your head in the dizziest daze; 

Come on and dance the Jazzy "Jazza-Ka-Jazza^" 

The Jazzy "Jazz-ka-Jazza Jazz." 

Copyright by Martin Conroy 



MI-LADY'S GARTER 

It reposes under the ash pile, 
The rubbish man to cart away ; 

The prop that stayed the silken sheen 
Has passed from the ken of day. 

It once held a shimmering paen, 

A loveliness that posesses; 
And snuggled deep from wolfish glance, 

For Beauty that charmingly blesses. 

Oft peered from its lofty bower, 
On neat slipper o'er waxen floor, 

Where tripped Mi-Lady with twinkling toe, 
In golden days of forgotten yore. 

In funeral shroud the garbage barge, 

Will slip it down the sea, 
And be dumped on the green, green waves, 

Lost forever to you and me. 

Crossed limbs display a dimpled knee, 
Where a garter once proudly shone; 

And the silken hose but tops the calf — 
For Mi-Lady now rolls her own. 



34 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



v//////y/////////y////f////y/^^ 



Want Ad 

Will the party who took the demi-john from my den please return 
same and no questions will be asked of disposition of the contents. — 
Cap'n Joey. 



FIVE THOUSAND PROPOSALS 

Edith Thayer, well known diminutive musical comedy and light 
opera star of "Fire-fly" and "Katinka" fame has just returned 
from a sensational success in Europe where it is said she received 
5,000 proposal of marriage. — Atta girl, Edith, it only proves that 
the boys, over there still like 'em small. 

Abe Attel, former pugilistic champion, is scoring a "comeback" 
by knocking out a Japanese shoe palace on B'way, called the 
"Ming Toy." 

Mean flanks are being shook at jazz palaces on B'way. 

An Eas,tsider wants to divorce her husband because he eats 
matzos in bed. She shouldn't let a matzo stand between her and 
her better half. 

NOTICE TO AUTOMOBILISTS 

Never strike a lady in the safety zone. 

Heard in Auld Lang Syne — Another dime in the piano, boys. 

In the Provincetown Players "A Little Act of Justice," by 
Norman Lindau was displayed an effective scene of rough 
mountain ways, where might is right. However, there always 
will be the criticism that dishonor must not mean death of the 
guilty. Atonement in life forms a Samaritan method that 
would have done Mr. Lindau as well. 

Erie Railroad and Pluto water — two roads that work slow, 
but regular. 

Eat onions and you sleep alone. Many people do not eat 
onions but their wives hoped they would. 

POVERTY OF RICHES. 

A Schooner off Ambrose Channel loaded with Jamaica Rum 
and no booze hounds on the horizon. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 35 



Y//m/y//7////////y////7//s///s/////Mr/////y////////s/////yy/w 



CHARLOTTE RUSSE SPORTLETS 

(With apologies to McGurk.) 

First off I will start by asking good old Billy Gibson to drape 
batik curtains from the side of the ring when Benny Leonard 
fights, as I believe it will give a cheerful atmosphere to the 
fallen. — And Billy can drape the Criterion, too, for that matter. 

Met my old sparring partner, Kiddo Celeste at the Claridge 
the other night. Kiddo still throws a mean calf. Her next 
bout will be at Snake's tea-room on the Avenue. Ten rounds 
of tea to a decision- 

A young male with the Percy Spindoza to his handle, blow- 
ing in from Spain, got fresh the other night, and I hit him for 
a Spanish omelet. I gave him a right cross, to illuminate the 
opposites of the curves he was admiring. 

That reminds me of the first time I knocked out a fish-cake 
Bimbo who hangs out at Ros eland. 

Spring will be here shortly and the Giants will start for the 
South for training. Wish I could be there for the grass is, green 
and-everything. 

This must be all for Cap'n Joey, as I've got to do my hair up, 
and put on my new openwork stockings. I've a date with a keen 
Jazzbo from Newark, and I expect it will be some go. 



The Frantik Koodoo, pre-Volstead species of antelope, jump- 
ed the fence at Bronx Zoo and started for the shortest point 
between Madagascar and the Congo River, but brave Izzy 
Einsteine, the milk-fed hero, went straight to — , and re- 
turned with four fingers of Three Star Hennessy. The per- 
fume was wafted to the nostrils of the Koodoo and the corrupt 
beast followed him back to captivity. 

People who live in glass houses should not love too stren- 
uously. 

Relativity and Einstein are not in communication with Izzy. 



We are as troubled as our sorrows are twisted. 



36 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

Her First Faint 

Fanny and Hector started the evening in the usual way by going to 
a movie — ■ 

Then Hector suggested a ride. 

Fanny agreed. 

When they got out in the country, they didn't get out. But he 
stopped the car. 

Fanny fainted. 

She knew perfectly well why he had stopped, but she asked: 

"Why are you stopping?" 

He might have given any one of the usual reasons. Instead of that 
he told the truth. 

"I'm going to kiss you." 

Then Fanny fainted. — Notre Dame' Juggler. 

First Steno in Woolworth Building: Did he kiss you last night? 
Second Steno in Woolworth Building: Sure; that's the reason I was 
late to work this morning. 

Full many a keg of purest hue and sheen, 
In some unfathomed stilly spot lies there; 

Full many a quart is born to blush unseen 
And waste its fragrance on the village heir. 



Something more concerning Elinor Glyn and her English folk by 
Taine, who says: "The so-called best society in England is notoriously 
corrupt and frigidly religious; a premium on hypocrisy and having no 
virtues of its own, it shrilly cries virtue." 



By F. Lapper 

Don't talk to me of men; I have kissed them, hugged them and lied 
to them. They always want something for nothing. 

Bystander: "What's the crowd for?" 

Policeman: "They've pinched Cap'n Joey for giving Izzy a drink of 
Village Dew." 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 37 



V/////////SS///S/SS///S//////////////////////////////'///S///S////S/////////S/////////////////////////////,/. ///////f 



PHONEY FABLES 1 

by Erysipelas # 

Once upon a time there was, a bum-bill bee who had been bus- 
ily buzzing around until the wee hours of the morning, sampling 
the different brands of home brew. Feeling rather dizzy and 
losing his, sense of direction he made his bed on a clover and 
temporarily forgot his troubles. 

Some hours later a cow strolled by, and not seeing the bee, 
swallowed the clover (bee and all.) When the bee woke up in 
the cow's stomach, all was dark. Thinking it still night he went 
to sleep again. A half hour later the bee woke up — but the cow 
was gone, and the bum-bill bee went busily buzzing around ever 
afterward. 

MORAL : — Heaven will protect the drunkard. 



A. No. 1, General Coxey and Socrates are the best known 
wanderers. 

Many lounge lizards have risen from the duce of spades to the 
ace of rakes. 

A sweet lip is worth a slap. 

As starch turns to gluten, pity will turn to love. 



When your shirt is torn, your socks are holey, your pants are worn 
out, you need a shave, your hair is long, your money's gone, your friends 
are nil — you remember the days that were, and the few who still stand by 
you are higher to be prized than the pride of the Sultan's harem or the 
best barrel of Kentucky's aged-in-the-wood. 

Berenice, Drusilla, Salome, Herodias, Messaline, Cleopatra, would have 
found this a wonderful age to ply their trade. 



38 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

ARTHUR NEALE'S JAZZES 

"Don't breathe this to a soul," said the waiter as he brought 
the demi-tasse. 

We know a man who's so mean he writes in shorthand to 
save ink. 

When you see a hooch-drinker walking around in circles, its 
a sign that he's been drinking vodka. Five hundred revolut- 
ions to the bottle. 

"This is another put-up job," said the paperhanger as he 

slapped on the wall-paper- 
Other day we discovered where the First National Bank had 

moved to. 

We know a man who's got so much nerve that he'd take a 
dollar's worth of stamps from the postal clerk and tell him to 
send the bill. 

"I'm at your service, madam," said the burglar as he slipped 
the silverwear into the suit case. 

He used to take his sister's hose and into socks he'd make 
'em. But when he buys, silk hose today — her turn's arrived to 
take 'm. 

Overheard up in Harlem : "Boy ! I'll make you see so many 
stars you'll think you're up in the Milky Way." 

We know a man who's so careful he'll register the letter if 
he's enclosing a two cent stamp. 

A girl says that with silk hose at $3.00 a pair she wears short 
skirts to show what she gets for her money. If this lady was 
consistent she'd show other things that cost more than the 
stockings. 

"Excuse me for taking this liberty," said the jail-breaker as 
he dropped lightly on the right side of the prison wall. 

If a cow has children we call her offsprings calfs. If we call- 
ed them kittens, loud would be the laffs. When a cat has chil- 
dren, kittens is the name. If we called them puppies — you'd 
laugh just the same. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 39 

The best dates come from Vassar and fig-leaves will soon be 
in season. 



OUR LIVES 

But seven cities of Cibola, haunting-, taunt- 
ing - , fleeting; A mirage of Coranado's — 

IN QUEST 

Of the will-o-wisp that hovers as a Spanish 
castle beyond the door. 



NO ADVANCEMENT 

King Solomon said : "There are three things I never could 
understand ; the birds in the air, the fish in the sea, and the way 
of a man and a maid." 



A WORD FROM MOTKE CHOBAT 

"That Coze Cazoozie is good," said Chobat of the Eastside, 
attempting to decipher "Jazza-Ka-Jazza," "but my mazuma is 
better." 



Volstead found the United States an oasis and will leave it a 
desert. 



40 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



Y///////s//////y//////my//yy////////^^^ 



To the unknown soldier — nameless in his shroud — may he fore 
ever haunt the shirkers who have reaped his prosperity. 



A well-turned ankle caught the eye of Boccaccio and today 
tired business men are still doing his stuff. • 



He don't drink any more; he drinks as much. 

When she dances she trods a saraband to his passions. 

Beauty marks will be popular as the girls, feel that they ought 
to wear something. 

Three steps down, amber-colored curtains ; obscure doorway ; 
has, appearance of the village; isn't. Its the first smoke shop 
for women, situated off Fifth Avenue, where they can throw 
their corsets into the corner, stick their pumps on the mantle- 
piece and not be scared of a peeping Tom. 



Man's love is of man's life a thing apart, 
'Tis woman's whole existance- 

— Byron 



y//y/////////y/y//y/^^^^ 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 41 



^£''k"A"^-il"^WW%fWW = A^^ 



1 



DRIFTINGS OF AGES 



,— K-*»C i Ss"W"! 



# 



Fairest of flowers 
Bloom by the Hours 
To sow, 
To sow, 
To sow. 

Life though the heart bleeds 
Sown wide with chaste seeds 
All one, 
All one, 
All one. 

The mark of deceit 
Mires cloven feet 
And ciing, 
And cling, 
And cling. 

Love swayed by lust 
Kneels in the dust, 
But clay, 
But clay, 
But clay. 

For ashes of old 
Are roue's gold 
To sin, 
To sin, 
To sin. 



Virgin yesterday 
Drooping to-day 
To wilt, 
To wilt, 
To wilt, 

Siftings of Sodom 
Lie at random 
And blow, 
And Mow, 
And blow". 

Conscience of soul 

The major role 

Within, 

Within, 

Within. 

For sinners 'tis, gall 
Who ken the call 
But stray, 
But stray, 
But stray. 

But heaven or hell 
The final knell 
For all, 
For all, 
For all. 



We cannot forget our pasts. 



y3ZZ^ZZ3Z2Ztt^&ZEttZ^^ZZ&SZ2Z^E2Z82Z&2ZZEZ2ZZ&Z^2222Z&Zffl22^^& 



42 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

Erysipelas's flapper recently wrote him as follows: "I see 
you're in the village now. Please don't mix up with any I. W. 
Ws, or Bolsheviks — they are so rough. The "Greenwich 
Village Follies" played here Saturday and some of those girls 
were terrible. If they're fair representatives of our Latin 
Quarters, I'm not worried about you- Or do I flatten myself 
Uke a steam roller." 

She did. 

Years ago Greenwich Villagers inaugurated bobbed hair and 
short skirts, and like parrots the world has followed. Now the 
Newark high school girls are attempting to outdo the Village 
standards and are displaying bare knees — not knock knees, but 
shock knees. 



Home brew — the last of life for which the first was made 



CROSSED WIRES 



"Ahlo! Ahlo! Operashun, oporashun, ahlo, is dits de middle? I 
vant Stuyvesant fife too nine zicks. yeh. smuch obli. Ahlo, iz dits de 
Cowenshun? I vant to talk to Mr. Cowenshun. 

"Ahloh! Mr. Cowenshun? Pleased to meecha. How do you doit. 
Vat? Hoo is dits vat is talkin? Vat? Hoo is dits? Veil, Mr. Cowenshun, 
if you'll tell me whos det, I'll tell you wohs dits. 

"Vat? Dits aint Mr. Cowenshun? He aint in? All right I'll talk mit 
his sacertary. 

"Ahlo, Miss Denyals? Dits is Mr. Slushmen. Nomem, s-1-u-s-h-m- 
ah hem hee ihem — Slushmen, yesmem. 

"I got it a cowanshun hend I vant a rate. No, not a date, smetter 
mitchoo, I'm a married mens, zull a schwartz yur chrappin de, you making 
from me a floit? I vant a rate. Rate — r-a-t-e. No, not de gate. Say, 
listin here, young ladeh, your a nize goil, und I like you, ober vash your 
ear. Vat? You don't drink beer? Whos talking about beer. I didn't 
say nothin. Vat. I should say sumpin? Say, gimme Mr. Cowenshun, I 
vant to talk mit yourn boss. You told me before he waz not in. Dats 
right. Den ven he comes in told him to call me up und if I'm not in I'll 
tell him vat time I'll be beck." 



The citizens of Athens caused poor Socrates to drink Hemlock 
and a few more reformers will yet make us drink gall. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 43 

GREENWICH VILLAGE NIGHTS 

(This is the second tale of Greenwich Village Nights re- 
counted in quaint Henry's coffee house, a stone's throw from 
Washington Square. Once a month four Villagers meet at the 
coffee house. All are fond of Marie, she of naive charm, daughter 
of Henry, who has promised to wed the tale teller rendering 
the best story. This to be decided at the end of twelve months 
by having the girl choose from the unsigned manuscripts. Marie 
is exceedingly fond of Rawling, who at best is a poor story teller. 
Tonight, Johnson, of Southern heritage, an embryo author earning 
his bread as a proofreader on a downtown daily, tells this tale :) 



OVER THE LEVEE 

"Coming- home — coming: home." 

Lulling; and soothing like the croon of a mammy's 
lullaby the words came to Turner from the darkness. 

At Ades the train was late, and he had missed the 
night ferry. With the old wound stabbing his leg, his 
patience was at low ebb as he questioned the roust- 
abouts at the landing for a boatman. In the dim glow 
of the landing lamp he had not taken mark of the negro 
who helped him into the skiff. But when the boat roun- 
ded the channel and was gaining the slacker shore water 
Turner's leg eased its pain. The night wind blew sooth- 
ingly. A pencil of moonlight pierced the heavy banks 
of clouds and for the first time the passenger observed 
that the boatman was older than the average river man. 

The face perplexed him._ There was a time when he 
knew all the darkies for miles around. The light faded 
and from the landing side the wind drove with a force 
to careen the skiff, forcing the boatman to pull hard. In 
the effort the wind caught the roustabout's cap and 
spun it into the water. Turner observed a bald 

pate gleaming dully in the shimmering light of the wan- 
ing - moon. Only one negro of the parish had he known 
to be bald, and that was old Abraham, patriarch of the 
Rodenwood plantation. 
"Let the cap go, Abe." 



44 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 

At the words the aged negro let the oars fall. Two 
eyes rolled white. 

"Lawsy" emanated from out of the night in the awed 
voice of the darkie. "How yo' know mah name, suh?" 

Bringing; his face closer, the boatman attempted to 
scrutinize the white man's features. 

"Mistah!" ejaculated the roustabout, a superstitious 
catch in his voice, "fo' de Lo'ds sake tell me wot yo' is, 
fo' no white folks done called me Abe in yea's." 

Across the water the passenger caught the sight of a 
flickering; candle gleam in the window of a cabin. His 
nerves soothed and the blood in his veins felt lethargic. 

Slowly .and with effort, as though each word made 
pleasing; pain, he replied . 

"This is Tackson." 

Only the lapping; waves answered him. Then the old 
negro spoke, in a tone of reverence. 

_ "Not Mistah Tu'ner's Tack that ah raised to man's 
size and done went away to wah and ain't never come 
home." 

"Yes," was the answer, "this is little Tack come home" 

And negro though he was, two arms encircled him, 
and on his breast a tired wanderer came to rest, like a 
crving picanniny on the breast of its mammy. 

When the current swept the boat into the easy water 
the negro again resumed the oars. Then the waves 
slapped lightlv against the craft as it eased rapidly over 
the water. 

The negro suddenly half rose from his seat and point- 
ing into the distance, excitedly cried : 

"There 'tis, Marse' Tack; there 'tis right behind yo!" 
Turning, the passenger peered in that direction. Half 

a mile distant blinked a faint glow — the river beacon 

that stood a stone's throw from the Plantation landing. 

Like a compass, his heart had headed for the scene of 

his nativity. 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 45 



Yss/yss/rss/s/s/rsMvss/rs/rss^^^ 



"Pears like its been yea's and yea's since yo' seen 
'Beulah Light', Marster?"^ queried the colored man as 
the levee lights flickered in the inkiness of the back- 
ground. 

"A long time, Uncle Abe," answered Jackson. His 
throat filled and he eased his lungs in a racking cough. 

"That's bad cough, Marsa Tack," said the aged servant 
solicitously.' "An' yo' sho' stumbled at the landin' 
like as yo' was hurt in the laig." 

Tackson hesitated before answering. "Yes, Uncle I 
got it — lungs and leg." In an afterthought, "I've been 
comin' a long ways to get home to you all." 

The passenger's throat again bothered, and when he 
spoke his voice trembled with emotion. 

"And Miss Eunice?" he half whispered, playing over 
the syllables. "Is she still at the old place?" 

As the old colored man replied, the hulk of the landing 
separated itself from the blackness of the towering 
levee. "Yes, Marsa Jack," he answered, but in a note 
that rang falsely. "Missie Eunice been waitin' fo' yo' 
all dis time, an' tol' me long time back to watch fo' yo' 
an' when yo' comes to fotch yo'. — An' Marsa lack, it 
sho' been de longest time." In the pale beam of the levee 
light a glistening drop rolled down the old man's cheek. 

The skiff edged the landing of the^ upstream side. 
Uncle Abe, displaying considerable agility, freed him- 
self of the oars and shuffled onto the planks. One hand 
under his master's armpit, the aged negro walked him to 
the cypress staircase that ran the face of the levee and 
was on the point of mounting the steps when the pas- 
senger stayed him. 

"That's all tonight, Uncle Abe," he said. "I want 
to come home — surprise Eunice — alone." Then to 
himself, climbing with evident weakness and fatigue. 
"She said I wasn't a man. .She said I wasn't a man." 

Long after Tackson had stumbled upward, the aged 
servant stood gazing into the night, censuring him- 
self: 

"An' ah tol' Marsa Jack she was waitin fo' him," he 
moaned; "de Lo'd heap dawn cu'ses on ma haid." 



46 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



y/?//xmssjays/rs//ss/yss////?///y/r//s/s^^^ 



During; the hours until daylight Uncle Abe held his 
vigil. In the early light of morning" the storm that 
threatened broke with intensity, wetting- the old darky 
to the skin. But with sunrise the storm ceased, and the 
boatman headed for the top of the levee. 

As he reached its crown, a brown mocking - bird swish- 
ed past and lit on a stretch of unkept lawn that ran back 
from the base of the levee. _ An encircling" platoon of 
ag-ed moss-clinging- oaks fringed the weedy plot and 
g-ave way only where its towering- branches scraped 
ag-ainst the white collonades of the old mansion. About 
the old house, with itscracked paint and shutters swinge- 
ing- awry in the morning - breeze, hovered an aspect that 
lisped of better days. But the aged and decrepit build- 
ing - brougfht to the old man reminisences of days when 
the Turners and the Rodenwood children thronged the 
place with childish hilarity. 

Back of the house the negro saw the modern home of 
the plantation master, and beyond, the whitewashed 
cabins of the "quarters," outlying the plowed fields and 
the sugar house. 

In all that expanse Uncle Abe could not locate the 
figure of his master. The negro's eyes widened, as 
they swept over the heads of the_ avenue of magnolias 
to where a whitened vault reared itself above the weeds 
and cape jessamines. 

With a sob in his throat the aged servant hurried 
down the levee slope. At the foot of the vault lay a 
huddled figure. The erstwhile slave fell on his knees, 
his arm about his old master, whose wasted fingers 
clutched a slab of marble. The darky's hand tore at 
the bit of cotton shirting and disclosed a khaki shirt 
upon which was pinned a rainbow-colored decoration. 
Feverishly he opened the breast buttons and thrust his 
hand over his master's heart, which now was stilled. 

Old Abe reverently loosened the stiffened fingers from 
the bit of stone that bore the inscription: 

"Always waiting for my. soldier boy." 

Not until he had replaced the slab did Uncle Abe look 
up. Eyes dimmed, he gazed at the vault that stood 



Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 47 

there, constructed brick by brick, by the old patriarch 
to house the last of the Rodenwoods. Over the closed 
aperture that showed througfh the coating: of whitewash, 
in small, round characters, was chipped: 

"EUNICE" 
"Ah, reckon," mournfully drawled the old darkey, 
"ah reckon, Missie Eunice, yo' Jack done come home — a 
man." 



TO LOVERS OF "DIFFERENT KIND OF STORIES 

Greenwich Village Nights will form an excellent addition 
to any library, in all, twelve literary gems, bound into a neat 
volume. The stories of the "different kind," written by Jo Bur- 
-ton, from experiences as a soldier-of -fortune in all parts of the 
globe. Included in the book will be the best features of the 
issues of Jazza-Ka-Jazza. On completion of the stories in this 
publication the book will be sent FREE to all yearly subscribers. 

Besides that Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza is sometimes hard 
to find. Try the following receipt: 

—Tear Off Here— 

I played taps over the enclosed $1.00 in hard earned Ameri- 
can coin. Send me "Jazza-Ka-Jazza" for six months trial with 
privilege of continuation of subscription. Your "Greenwich Vil- 
lage Nights" is to be sent at the close of twelve months subscrip- 
tion, FREE to me. 



Name (now being used) 

Address (when at home) 

Don't delay ; Jazza-Ka-Jazza is going like iced mint juleps 
in the inferno. You'll think there was a three-mile limit when 
you try to get one (as a lot of people thought last month). 

Jazza-Ka-Jazza employs no agents or solicitors. AU sub- 
scriptions direct to Cap'n joey. 



48 Cap'n Joey's Jazza-Ka-Jazza 



Write an ending to Greenwich Village Nights, the "different 
kind" series now being conducted by Cap'n Joey. 

Do it in your own way. Jazza-Ka-Jazza will publish the 
conclusion of Greenwich Village Nights by Cap'n Joey as well 
as the best submitted story. 

Manuscripts should be of 1500 to 2000 words. 

List of prizes and other data will be published in April issue- 



Dear Jazz Readers: 

§ Following this edition all rum-sellers and flappers will 
please write Cap'n Joey instead of dropping in to his. den, for 
the simple reason he's going to take a vacation past the three- 
mile limit where he can indulge in a liquid theory for the Jazza- 
Ka-Jazza which will be jazzier than ever with several innova- 
tions. 

I have been jazzing a short time 
I have been cussed and discussed, 
Boycotted, talked about, lied about, 
Lied to, hung up, held up and robbed 
The only reason I am writing 
This stuff is to see what the 
Hell is going to happen next. 

JO. BURTEN. 



M/^M'MWMM/WMMW 




GILDA GRAY 
Queen of Jazz at Rendezvous. 

Photo by Alfred Cheney Johnston 




MME. PHOEBE 

in 

Dance Classique 

at Cafe' fie Paris. 




THELMA 
Originator South Sea T sland Dance At Club Dansant. 









Join The New Silhouette Fad. 
The 

JAZZA-KA-JAZZA MAGAZINE! 

Will send an enlarged copy of 
The 

lattr? nf tfj? SUappera 

On the cover of the March issue, to aB readers for 
price of one quarter. 

The picture is on heavy paper, 8x12 inches ready to be framed 

or hung in your room or den, and having Cap'n Joey's 

own signature on the back. 






THE LATEST BROADWAY JAZZ SENSATION 

JAZZA-KA-JAZZA ■_-. 

Lyrics and music by 
MARTIN CONROY 

Author of the hits, "I Wonder" and "Eyes of Brown." 

CONROY & RICH 

Music Publishers 
1912 Broadway, N. Y. C 



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