CHAPTER I. DAWNATION. A modern American Ritualistic Spire! How can the modern American Ritualistic Spire be here! The well-known tapering brown Spire, like a closed umbrella on end? How can that be here? There is no rusty rim of a shocking bad hat between the eye and that Spire in the real prospect. What is the rusty rim that now intervenes, and confuses the vision of at least one eye? It must be an... more...

THE BEETLE OF BUDA-PESTH. AN UNRECORDED EPISODE OF THE GREAT WAR. The War being now practically at an end and Austria-Hungary irrevocably broken up, I am able to recount an adventure, in which I was involved, that occurred at Buda-Pesth in the second week of August, 1914. Seated at a café on the famous Franz-Josef Quai, I was sipping coffee, after an excellent lunch, with Frederick, whose surname I... more...

THE GENTLEMAN’S OWN BOOK. Our consideration must now be given to those essentials in the construction of a true gentleman—the cut, ornaments, and pathology of his dress. THE CUT is to the garment what the royal head and arms are to the coin—the insignia that give it currency. No matter what the material, gold or copper, Saxony or sackcloth, the die imparts a value to the one, and the shears to... more...

"WELL MATCHED." Medico (pathetically, with a view to touching the Dealer's heart). "Now, Mr. Bobbs, what do you think I could get a thoroughly good useful Pair of Horses for, eh? Price not stiff." Mr. Bobbs. "Lor' bless you, Sir, to find Horses—nothin' easier. but, as regards Price—well—you can have 'em at all Prices, just as you can Doctors!" MIXED... more...

A HEAD CASE. We were discussing that much discussed question, whether it is better to be wounded in the leg or in the arm, when young Spilbury butted in. "I don't know about legs and arms," he said, "but I know there are certain advantages in having your head bound up." Spilbury's own head was bound up, and we all said at once that of course the head was much the worst place... more...

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MODERN TYPES. (By Mr. Punch's own Type Writer.) No. XVI.—THE HURLINGHAM GIRL. It is not so easy as it might appear to define the Hurlingham Girl with complete accuracy. To say of her that she is one whose spirits are higher than her aspirations, would be true but inadequate. For, at the best, aspirations are etherial things, and those of the Hurlingham Girl, if they ever existed, have been so... 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...

THE BALAAM STAKES . They were speeding along in the train to the Dispersal Area, and, having moved heaven and earth to achieve demobilisation, were now absolutely miserable on nearing their goal. "Like to pick your fancy for the Derby, Docker?" asked Jimmy Ferguson, proffering his daily paper with an air of acute cheerfulness. "Not fer me," said Docker Morgan dismally; "I sworn off... more...

CHAPTER I. TANT' SANNIE was stewing kraut in the old Dutch saucepan. The scorching rays of the African sun were beating down upon BONAPARTE BLENKINS who was doing his best to be sun-like by beating WALDO. His nose was red and disagreeable. He was something like HUCKLEBERRY FINN's Dauphin, an amusing, callous, cruel rogue, but less resourceful. TANT' SANNIE laughed; it was so pleasant to... more...