Games/Humor Books

MAN AND WIVES. A TRAVESTY. By MOSE SKINNER, CHAPTER SIXTH. ANN'S RECEPTION. The next morning, as ANN was eating breakfast, who should drive up in a covered wagon but the Hon. MICHAEL. "Just as I expected," said she. "They've found out where I am, and they'll come out here and try to pump me about it. But I don't envy 'em their job. Come in," she added, in answer... more...

HEART-TO-HEART TALKS. (The PRESIDENT of the United States and Mr. GERARD.) The President. Here you are then at last, my dear Mr. GERARD. I am afraid you have had a long and uncomfortable journey. Mr. Gerard. Don't say a word about that, Mr. President. It's all in the day's work, and, anyhow, it's an immense pleasure to be back in one's own country. The President. Yes, I can... more...

Fleacatcher.—Yes, the trout in the river Itching (this is the only correct spelling) are red, and, before they are boiled, raw. The best method of catching them is to tickle them. When you have hooked an Itching trout, you first scratch him, and then cook him. Novice.—We only knew one man who could make a decent rod, and he died twenty years ago. Remember the old adage so dear to Izaak, Qui parcit... more...

"GOOD OLD GRACE!" (Doggerel on "The Doctor," by an "Old Duffer.") "Dr. Grace, who seemed to forget his lameness, played with great vigour and dash, and his cuts and drives possessed all their old brilliancy."—The Times, on the exciting finish in the Cricket Match between the M.C.C. and the Australians, June 3, 1890. One hundred and eleven runs, and eighty-five minutes... more...

THE END OF THE JUBILEE. I've been to the Abbey, the Naval Review, The Maske at Gray's Inn and the Institute too; In fact I feel just like the Wandering Jew, Or other historical rover: I've turned day into night and the night into day, In a regular rollicking Jubilee way, And now I can truly and thankfully say, I'm uncommonly glad that it's over. I've been to a number of... more...

MISTAKEN CHARITY. Slip was riding a big chestnut mare down the street and humming an accompaniment to the tune she was playing with her bit. He pulled up when he saw me and, still humming, sat looking down at me. "Stables in ten minutes," I said. "You're heading the wrong way." "A dispensation, my lad," he replied. "I'm taking Miss Spangles up on the hill to get... more...

PERSONAL PARS FROM THE WESTERN FRONT. (With acknowledgments to some of our chatty contemporaries.) HAPPY C.-IN-C.—I saw the Commander-in-Chief to-day passing through the little village of X in an open car. He was very quietly dressed in khaki, with touches of scarlet on the hat and by the collar. I waved my hand to him and he returned the salute. It is small acts like this which endear him to all. I... more...

December 16, 1914 T. P.'s Weekly, in some sprightly lines, suggests that Punch should appear daily. This would certainly not be a whit more strange than to issue a T. P.'s Weekly Christmas Number as is done by our contemporary. Answer to a Correspondent.—Yes, khaki is the fashionable colour for plum-puddings for the Front. Post hoc propter hoc? Extract from the Eye-Witness's... more...

VOCES POPULI. A ROW IN THE PIT; OR, THE OBSTRUCTIVE HAT. SCENE—The Pit during Pantomime Time. The Overture is beginning. An Over-heated Matron (to her Husband). Well, they don't give you much room in 'ere, I must say. Still, we done better than I expected, after all that crushing. I thought my ribs was gone once—but it was on'y the umbrella's. You pretty comfortable where you... more...

POETRY ON AN IMPROVED PRINCIPLE. Let me earnestly implore you, good Mr. PUNCH, to give publicity to a new invention in the art of poetry, which I desire only to claim the merit of having discovered. I am perfectly willing to permit others to improve upon it, and to bring it to that perfection of which I am delightedly aware, it is susceptible. It is sometimes lamented that the taste for poetry is on... more...