Games/Humor Books

July 22, 1914. Those who deny that Mr. Lloyd George is ruining land-owners will perhaps be impressed by the following advertisement in The Bazaar, Exchange and Mart:— "To be sold, small holding, well stocked with fruit trees, good double tenement house on good road and close to station, good outer buildings. Price, Four Marks, Alton, Hunts." The fact that the price should be translated into... more...

A CRICKET MANNERISM. A writer commented recently in an article in Punch on the advantage to a cricketer of some harmless mannerism, giving as an instance Mr. P.F. Warner's habit of hitching up the left side of his trousers and patting the ground seven times with his bat. This homely touch reminded me irresistibly of Rankin. Not that Rankin resembles Mr. Warner even remotely in any other way. But... more...

URBI ET ORBI. Mr. PUNCH returns thanks for the anticipatory congratulations on the occasion of his Jubilee, and takes this opportunity of informing his friends—which means Everybody Everywhere—that the 50th anniversary of his natal day is July 18 prox., which day Mr. PUNCH hereby gives full and entire permission to the aforesaid Everyone Everywhere to keep as a whole Holiday, and do in a general... more...

POLITICAL MEETINGS. A Crowded, gas-lit, stuffy hall, A prosy speaker, such a duffer, A mob that loves to stamp and bawl, Noise, suffocation—how I suffer! What is he saying? "Mr. G. Attacks the British Constitution, It therefore—er—er—falls to me To move the first—er—resolution: "That—er—the Shrimpington-on-Sea United Primrose Habitations Pronounce ('Hear, hear!') these... more...

THE SPOIL-SPORT. Mr. Phillybag was demobilised. The Day had come. For months he had dreamed of the possibility—had imagined the joy and alacrity with which he would doff his cap, tunic and trousers, service dress, one each, and resume the decent broadcloth of a successful City solicitor. Strangely enough, however, once he was actually demobilised he found himself in no hurry to lose the garb which... more...

RECOGNITION. "Francesca," I said, "have you seen it?" "It? What?" "The announcement." "What announcement?" "I have been gazetted," I said. "Did it hurt much?" she said. "Or were you able to bear it without a murmur?" "It's in The Times," I said, "and you shall read it, whether you like it or not. It's in the place... more...

HOW TO THROW OFF AN ARTICLE. "Do you really write?" said Sylvia, gazing at me large-eyed with wonder. I admitted as much. "And do they print it just as you write it?" "Well, their hired grammarians make a few trifling alterations to justify their existence." "And do they pay you quite a lot?" "Sixpence a word." "Oo! How wonderful!" "But not for every... more...

THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. AN ADAPTATION. BY ORPHEUS C. KERR. CHAPTER XII—(Continued.) The pauper burial-ground toward which they now progress in a rather high-stepping manner, or—to vary the phrase—toward which their steps are now very much bent, is not a favorite resort of the more cheerful village people after nightfall. Ask any resident of Bumsteadville if... more...

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AUGUST 20, 1887. (To be translated into French, German, and Italian, for the benefit of Foreigners.) In the Train.Continental Railways are disgracefully mismanaged. This train does not travel at anything like the rate of our expresses. The "Flying Scotchman" travels at 50, 100, or 150 (according to fancy) miles the hour. I object to smoking; also wish all the windows to be opened or closed (as... more...