Games/Humor Books

HOW TO CURE THE BOSCH. "Yes, I seen a good bit o' the Bosch, one way and another, before he got me in the leg," said Corporal Digweed. "Eighteen months I had with 'im spiteful, and four months with 'im tame. Meaning by that four months guarding German prisoners." "And what do you think of him at the end of it?" I asked. Digweed leant back with a heavily judicial... more...

HEREINAFTERS. I. There are people in the world called tenants. I think nothing of them; Celia thinks nothing of them; jointly we do not think anything of them. However, as this is not so much a grammar as an explanation, I will get on with it. For the last two years we have been letting our flat. Naturally Celia has had to do most of the work; my military duties have prevented me from taking my share... 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...

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...

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...

CHAPTER I. GEORGE GINSLING was alone in his College-rooms at Cambridge. His friends had just left him. They were quite the tip-top set in Christ's College, and the ashes of the cigarettes they had been smoking lay about the rich Axminster carpet. They had been talking about many things, as is the wont of young men, and one of them had particularly bothered GEORGE by asking him why he had refused a... more...

GOOD-BYE TO THE AUXILIARY PATROL. I.—THE SHIP. When it was announced that we were to be paid off and that the gulls and porpoises that help to make the Dogger Bank the really jolly place it is would know us no more, there was, I admit, a certain amount of subdued jubilation on board. It is true that the Mate and the Second Engineer fox-trotted twice round the deck and into the galley, where they... more...

VOCES POPULI. THE RIDING-CLASS. SCENE—A Riding-school, on a raw chilly afternoon. The gas is lighted, but does not lend much cheerfulness to the interior, which is bare and bleak, and pervaded by a bluish haze. Members of the Class discovered standing about on the tan, waiting for their horses to be brought in. At the further end is an alcove, with a small balcony, in which Mrs. BILBOW-KAY, the... more...

THE PHYSIOLOGY OF THE LONDON MEDICAL STUDENT. 12.—OF THE COLLEGE, AND THE CONCLUSION. Our hero once more undergoes the process of grinding before he presents himself in Lincoln’s-inn Fields for examination at the College of Surgeons. Almost the last affair which our hero troubles himself about is the Examination at the College of Surgeons; and as his anatomical knowledge requires a little polishing... more...

MODERN TYPES. (By Mr. Punch's Own Type Writer.) No. XXII.—THE MANLY MAIDEN. The Manly Maiden may be defined as the feminine exaggeration of those rougher qualities which men display in their intercourse with one another, or in the pursuit of those sports in which courage, strength, and endurance play a part. In a fatal moment she conceives the idea that she can earn the proud title of "a... more...