Games/Humor Books

CONVERSATIONAL HINTS FOR YOUNG SHOOTERS. THE KEEPER. (Continued.) Is there no way, then, you may ask, in which the Head Keeper may be lured from his customary silence for more than a sentence or two? Yes, there is one absolutely certain method, and, so far as I know, only one. The subject to which you must lead your conversation is—no, it isn't poachers, for a good keeper takes the occasional... more...

The Elysian Fields, a flower-gemmed bank, by a flowing stream, beneath the sylvan shade of unfading foliage. Mr. Punch—who is free of all places, from Fleet Street to Parnassus—discovered, in Arcadian attire, attempting "numerous verse" on a subject of National importance—to wit, the approaching Royal Marriage. Mr. Punch. Propt on this "bank of amaranth and moly,"Beneath the shade... more...

"SOME DAY!" (Latest Egyptian Version of Milton Welling's popular Song.) Mr. Bull to Miss Egypt, sings:— I know not when the day shall be, I know not when we two shall part; What farewell you will give to me, Or will your words be sweet or tart? It may not be till years have passed, Till France grows calm, young Abbas grey; But I am pledged—so, love, at last, Our hands, our hearts must... more...

HEARING HIMSELF. (Mysterious Mem. from a Hawarden Note-Book.) Exceedingly kind and flattering of MAX MÜLLER! "I hope there are but few here present who have never enjoyed the privilege of listening to Mr. GLADSTONE." Ha! ha! He little thought there was one there who had not "enjoyed that privilege." Have enjoyed most privileges in my time, but never that of "hearing myself as... more...

WHY I DON'T WRITE PLAYS. (From the Common-place Book of a Novelist.) Because it is so much pleasanter to read one's work than to hear it on the Stage. Because Publishers are far more amiable to deal with than Actor-Managers. Because "behind the scenes" is such a disappointing place—except in Novels. Because why waste three weeks on writing a Play, when it takes only three years to... more...

NOT GOING AWAY FOR THE HOLIDAYS. Cookson Gaze, Q.C. Because MARIA votes Eastbourne vulgar, and the girls (sorry now I sent them to that finishing-school at Clapham) laugh so consumedly whenever I open my mouth to address a native if we go to Trouville or Dinard. C. Jumper. Because the Governor thinks three days in the year enough for anybody. Eastend Dr. Because that fiver will just give little SALLY... more...

'ARRY AT 'ARRYGATE. DEAR CHARLIE,—Rum mix this 'ere world is, yer never know wot'll come next! Don't emagine I've sent yer a sermon, and treacle this out as my text; But really life's turn-ups are twisters. You lay out for larks, 'ealth, and tin, But whenever you think it's "a moral," that crock, "Unexpected," romps in. Who'd ha'... more...

SWORD AND PEN; Or, The Rival Commanders. (Extract from a Military Story of the near Future.) Captain Pipeclay was perplexed when his Company refused to obey him. He was considered a fairly good soldier, but not up to date. He might know his drill, he might have read his Queen's Regulations, but he had vague ideas of the power of the Press. "You see, Sir," remonstrated his Colour-Sergeant;... more...

'ARRY AT 'ARRYGATE. (Second Letter.) DEAR CHARLIE,—The post-mark, no doubt, will surprise you. I'm still at the "Crown," Though I said in my last—wot wos true—I was jest on the mizzle for town. 'Ad a letter from nunky, old man, with another small cheque. Good old nunk! So I'm in for a fortnit' more sulphur and slosh, afore doing a bunk. Ah! I've worked... more...

AT A HYPNOTIC SÉANCE. SCENE—A Public Hall in a provincial town. The Hypnotist—a tall, graceful, and handsome young man, in well-fitting evening clothes—has already succeeded in putting most of his subjects to sleep, and is going round and inspecting them critically, as they droop limply on a semicircle of chairs, in a variety of unpicturesque attitudes. The only Lady on the platform is evidently... more...