First Shy Man   (to break the spell).   Odd, our running up against one another like this, eh? Second Shy Man. Oh, very odd.   (Looks about him irresolutely, and wonders if it would be decent to pass on. Decides it will hardly do.)   Great place for meeting, the Academy, though. First S. M. Yes; sure to come across somebody, sooner or later. [Laughs nervously, and wishes the other would go.... more...

Chorus of Female Spectators. We shall see better here than what we did last Droring-Room. Law, 'ow it did come down, too, pouring the 'ole day. I was that sorry for the poor 'orses!... Oh, that one was nice, Marire! Did you see 'er train?—all flame-coloured satting—lovely! Ain't them flowers beautiful? Oh, Liza, 'ere's a pore skinny-lookin' thing coming... more...

"GOOD OLD GRACE!" (Doggerel on "The Doctor," by an "Old Duffer.") "Dr. Grace, who seemed to forget his lameness, played with great vigour and dash, and his cuts and drives possessed all their old brilliancy."—The Times, on the exciting finish in the Cricket Match between the M.C.C. and the Australians, June 3, 1890. One hundred and eleven runs, and eighty-five minutes... more...

April 26, 1916. General Villa, in pursuit of whom a United States army has already penetrated four hundred miles into Mexico, is alleged to have died. It is not considered likely, however, that he will escape as easily as all that. "Germans net the Sound," says a recent issue of a contemporary. We don't know what profit they will get out of it, but we ourselves in these hard times are only... more...

ACT I.SCENE—A Sitting-room cheerfully decorated in dark colours. Broad doorway, hung with black crape, in the wall at back, leading to a back Drawing-room, in which, above a sofa in black horsehair, hangs a posthumous portrait of the lateGeneral GABLER.On the piano is a handsome pall. Through the glass panes of the back Drawing-room window are seen a dead wall and a cemetery. Settees, sofas, chairs,... more...

ACT I. A Room tastefully filled with cheap Art-furniture. Gimcracks in an étagère; a festoon of chenille monkeys hanging from the gaselier. Japanese fans, skeletons, cotton-wool spiders, frogs, and lizards, scattered everywhere about. Drain-pipes with tall dyed grasses. A porcelain stove decorated with transferable pictures. Showily-bound books in book-case. Window. The Visitors' bell rings in... more...

NEW WELLS FOR OLD. Over the top of Part II. of The Outline of History I caught the smiling glance of the man in the opposite corner of the compartment. "Good stuff that," he said, indicating the History with a jerk of his head. "Quite," I agreed, maintaining my distance. "Immense," he continued. "And it means the dawn of a new life for me. I'm Wells's hero. Every... more...

WHAT IT MAY COME TO! SCENE—The Central Criminal Court. The usual Company assembled, and the place wearing its customary aspect. "Standing room only" everywhere, except in the Jury Box, which is empty. Prisoner at the Bar. Judge. This is most annoying! Owing to the refusal of the Jury to serve, the time of the Bar, the Bench, and, I may even add, the prisoner, is wasted! I really don't... more...

MODERN TYPES. (By Mr. Punch's Own Type Writer.) No. XXIII.—THE TOLERATED HUSBAND. It is customary for the self-righteous moralists who puff themselves into a state of Jingo complacency over the failings of foreign nations, to declare with considerable unction that the domestic hearth, which every Frenchman habitually tramples upon, is maintained in unviolated purity in every British household.... more...

CHAPTER I. I was asleep and dreaming—dreaming dreadful, horrible, soul-shattering dreams—dreams that flung me head-first out of bed, and then flung me back into bed off the uncarpeted floor of my chamber. But I did not wake—why should I?—it was unnecessary—I wanted to dream—I had to dream and therefore I dreamt. I was walking home from a cheap restaurant in one of the poorer quarters of... more...