A CRIMINAL TYPE. To-day I am MAKing aN inno6£vation. as you mayalready have gessed, I am typlng this article myself Zz½lnstead of writing it, The idea is to save time and exvBKpense, also to demonstyap demonBTrike= =damn, to demonstratO that I can type /ust as well as any blessedgirl 1f I give my mInd to iT"" Typlng while you compose is realy extraoraordinarrily easy, though composing... more...

A WHIFF OF THE BRINY. As I entered the D.E.F. Company's depôt, Melancholy marked me for her own. Business reasons—not my own but the more cogent business reasons of an upperling—had just postponed my summer holiday; postponed it with a lofty vagueness to "possibly November. We might be able to let you go by then, my boy." November! What would Shrimpton-on-Sea be like even at the... more...

A COUP FOR "THE DAILY TRAIL." We all knew at the office that Micklebrown had gone to Cocklesea for his holiday. If anyone had offered him a free pass to the Italian lakes or any other delectable spot Micklebrown would have declined it and taken his third return to Cocklesea. Like Sir Walter Raleigh when he started for South America to find a gold-mine, Micklebrown had an object in view. He... more...

BRIDGE CONVENTIONS. The game of Auction Bridge may be divided into three species. There is the one we play at home, the second which we play at the Robinsons', and the third that is played at the high table at my club. The three games are peculiarly distinct, but I have only recently discovered, at some expense, that each one has its particular conventions. At home, if I venture a light no-trump,... more...

ACT. II.—Scene—Same as in Act I.; viz., the Morning-room at Natterjack Hall. Evening of same day. Enter Blethers. Blethers. Another of Sir Poshbury's birthdays almost gone—and my secret still untold! (Dodders.) I can't keep it up much longer ... Ha, here comes his Lordship—he does look mortal bad, that he do! Miss Verbena ain't treated him too well, from all I can hear, poor... more...

'ARRY ON EQUALITY. Dear Charlie,—Bin down as a dab with that dashed heppydemick, dear boy. I 'ave bloomin' nigh sneezed my poor head orf. You know that there specie of toy Wot they call cup-and-ball! That's me, Charlie! My back seemed to open and shut, As the grippe-demon danced on my innards, and played pitch-and-toss with my nut. Hinfluenza be blowed! It licks hague and cholera... more...

Characters. Jack Parker ("was a cruel boy, For mischief was his sole employ." Vide Miss Jane Taylor.) Miss Lydia Banks ("though very young, Will never do what's rude or wrong."—Ditto.)Farmer Banks}By the BrothersGriffiths.Farmer Banks's BullChorus of Farm Hands. Scene—A Farmyard. R. a stall, from which the head of the Bull is visible above the half-door. Enter Farmer Banks... more...

THE WIFE CATCHERS. A LEGEND OF MY UNCLE’S BOOTS. In Four Chapters. Haberdashers, continued my friend the boot, are wonderful people; they make the greatest show out of the smallest stock—whether of brains or ribbons—of any men in the world. A stranger could not pass through the village of Ballybreesthawn without being attracted by a shop which occupied the corner of the Market-square and the main... more...

THE HEIR OF APPLEBITE. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCES THE READER TO THE APPLEBITE FAMILY AND TO AGAMEMNON COLLUMPSION APPLEBITE IN PARTICULAR. The following is extracted from the Parliamentary Guide for 18—:—“APPLEBITE, ISAAC (Puddingbury). Born March 25, 1780; descended from his grandfather, and has issue.” And upon reference to a monument in Puddingbury church, representing the first Mrs. Applebite... more...

THE WIFE-CATCHERS. A LEGEND OF MY UNCLE’S BOOTS. In Four Chapters. The conversation now subsided into “private and confidential” whispers, from which I could learn that Miss O’Brannigan had consented to quit her father’s halls with Terence that very night, and, before the priest, to become his true and lawful wife. It had been previously understood that those of the guests who lived at a... more...