Games/Humor Books

THE CANDIDATE'S COMPLETE LETTER-WRITER.(In Answer to a Sweep asking for a F.O. Clerkship.)MY DEAR MR. ——, Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to secure for your interesting son a Clerkship in the Foreign Office. The fact that he has a distaste for the profession to which you belong would be no disqualification. I agree with you that chimney-sweeping is better than diplomacy. However,... more...

PERSONAL PARS FROM THE WESTERN FRONT. (With acknowledgments to some of our chatty contemporaries.) HAPPY C.-IN-C.—I saw the Commander-in-Chief to-day passing through the little village of X in an open car. He was very quietly dressed in khaki, with touches of scarlet on the hat and by the collar. I waved my hand to him and he returned the salute. It is small acts like this which endear him to all. I... more...

A 'BUS 'OSS'S MEMS. (Kept during a recent Social Crisis.) Saturday, June 6, 11 P.M.—Home after our last turn. Fancy from several drinks had on the way, and the pace we had to put into that last mile and a half, that something's up. Turned into stall nice and comfortable, as usual. Sunday.—Something is up with a vengeance. Hoorooh! We're on strike. I don't know the... more...

"AS GOOD AS A BETTER." Dr. Andrew Wilson (in "Science Jottings," in the Illustrated London News) dares disparage Golf "as an ideal game for young men," venturing to advocate the preferential claims of fogeyish Cricket, and even of futile Lawn Tennis— "O Scots, wha hae wi' BALFOUR teed." What wull ye say to this disloyal, slanderous, sacrilegious ANDY? He hints... more...

MISTAKEN CHARITY. Slip was riding a big chestnut mare down the street and humming an accompaniment to the tune she was playing with her bit. He pulled up when he saw me and, still humming, sat looking down at me. "Stables in ten minutes," I said. "You're heading the wrong way." "A dispensation, my lad," he replied. "I'm taking Miss Spangles up on the hill to get... more...

THE END OF THE JUBILEE. I've been to the Abbey, the Naval Review, The Maske at Gray's Inn and the Institute too; In fact I feel just like the Wandering Jew, Or other historical rover: I've turned day into night and the night into day, In a regular rollicking Jubilee way, And now I can truly and thankfully say, I'm uncommonly glad that it's over. I've been to a number of... more...

TO-DAY IN THE FOOD GARDEN. PEAS.—Have you planted your early peas yet? If not you should do so at once. Select a piece of well-tilled ground running North and South. To find the North go out at twelve o'clock and stand facing the direction you think the sun would be in if it were visible. Turn smartly about bringing up the left foot on the word "Two." If you guessed right the first time... more...

FEBRUARY 4, 1914. The statement, made at the inquiry into the Dublin strike riots, that 245 policemen were injured during the disturbances has, we hear, done much to allay the prevailing discontent among the belabouring classes. "Coaling the Stores" is a headline which caught our eye in a newspaper last week. To be followed, after the strike, we imagine, by "Storing the Coals." A... more...

Sweet odours, radiant colours, glittering light! How swift a change from the dusk sodden night Of London in mid-winter! Titania here might revel as at home; Fair forms are floating soft as Paphian foam, Bright as an iceberg-splinter. Dianas doubtless, yet their frost holds fire; The snowiest bosom covers soft desire, And these are snowy, verily. As blanched—and bare—as Himalaya's peaks,... more...

Fleacatcher.—Yes, the trout in the river Itching (this is the only correct spelling) are red, and, before they are boiled, raw. The best method of catching them is to tickle them. When you have hooked an Itching trout, you first scratch him, and then cook him. Novice.—We only knew one man who could make a decent rod, and he died twenty years ago. Remember the old adage so dear to Izaak, Qui parcit... more...