Games/Humor Books

29th December, 1920. CHARIVARIA. No newspapers were published on Saturday, Sunday or Monday. We did not begrudge them their holiday, but we do think The Daily Mail might have issued occasional bulletins respecting the weather at Thanet, as we consider three days is too long to keep their readers in suspense. The most popular indoor game this winter seems to be Battledore-and-Juttlecock. A woman... more...

A BALLAD OF WEALTHY WOOING. Ah, why, my Love, receive me With such tip-tilted scorn? Self-love can scarce retrieve me From obloquy forlorn; 'Twas not my fault, believe me, That wealthy I was born. Of Nature's gifts invidious I'd choose I know not which; One might as well be hideous As shunn'd because he's rich. O Love, if thou art bitter, Then death must pleasant be; I know not... more...

PURPLE PATCHES FROM LORD YORICK'S GREAT BOOK. (Special Review.) Lord Yorick's Reminiscences, just published by the house of Hussell, abound in genial anecdote, in which the "personal note" is lightly and gracefully struck, in welcome contrast to the stodgy political memoirs with which we have been surfeited of late. We append some extracts, culled at random from these jocund pages:—... more...

LETTERS TO ABSTRACTIONS. No. II.—TO SOCIAL AMBITION. DEAR SIR, OR MADAM, I had not intended to annoy you with another letter. But since I addressed you last week I have received one or two communications—not from you, bien entendu, for you are too wary to dispute the accuracy of what I have written; but from concrete human beings, who pretend to speak on your behalf, and deny that I have... more...

THE "MODEL HUSBAND" CONTEST. SCENE THE FIRST—At the GALAHAD-GREENS'. Mrs. G.-G. GALAHAD! Mr. G.-G. (meekly). My love? Mrs. G.-G. I see that the proprietors of All Sorts are going to follow the American example, and offer a prize of £20 to the wife who makes out the best case for her husband as a Model. It's just as well, perhaps, that you should know that I've made up my mind... more...

GOING TO THE BANK. She thought she had got a bargain. It was only marked "20/-," and would have been double the price at any of the West-end places. So she whipped out her Japanese note-case, paid for it, and carried it off like a whirlwind lest the shopman should find he had made a mistake. But it was she who had made a mistake, and she broke the news to me at breakfast on the following... more...

MYSELF, PUNCH, AND THE KEELEYS. I dined with my old friend and schoolfellow, Jack Withers, one day last September. On the previous morning, on my way to the India House, I had run up against a stout individual on Cornhill, and on looking in his face as I stopped for a moment to apologise, an abrupt “This is surely Jack Withers,” burst from my lips, followed by—“God bless me! Will Bayfield!”... more...

My Lord, After having long celebrated the superior graces and excellences among men, in an imaginary character, I do myself the honour to show my veneration for transcendent merit, under my own name, in this address to your lordship. The just application of those high accomplishments of which you are master, has been an advantage to all your fellow subjects; and it is from the common obligation you... more...

THE DOMESTIC PROBLEM. "Well, I've been to see three of them now," she said. "The first is at Shepherd's Bush—" "What pipes!" I ejaculated. "What music! What wild ecstasy!" "—four hundred yards from the Central Tube, to be exact; and there's a large roller skating-rink next door. You never rolled, did you? Three sessions daily, the advertisement... more...

ONE STAR. Occasionally I receive letters from friends whom I have not seen lately addressed to Lieutenant M—— and apologising prettily inside in case I am by now a colonel; in drawing-rooms I am sometimes called "Captain-er"; and up at the Fort the other day a sentry of the Royal Defence Corps, wearing the Créçy medal, mistook me for a Major, and presented crossbows to me. This is all... more...