Games/Humor Books

VENICE RESERVED. (A Sketch from a Numbered Stall at Olympia.) On the Stage, the Scene represents "A Public Place before the Arsenal," where a number of artisans are apparently busily engaged in making horse-shoes on cold anvils in preparation for the launch of "The Adriatica." On extreme R. enter Antonio, who expresses commercial embarrassment by going through a sort of dumb-bell... more...

PRATT'S TOURS OF THE FRONT. THE LAST WORD IN SENSATION. By special arrangement Pratt's are able to offer their patrons unique opportunities of witnessing the stirring events of the Great Struggle. Don't miss it; you may never see another War. Come and see Tommy at work and play. Come and be shelled—a genuine thrill! Same as during London's Air-raids, but less danger. At the... more...

Characters. Jack Parker ("was a cruel boy, For mischief was his sole employ." Vide Miss Jane Taylor.) Miss Lydia Banks ("though very young, Will never do what's rude or wrong."—Ditto.)Farmer Banks}By the BrothersGriffiths.Farmer Banks's BullChorus of Farm Hands. Scene—A Farmyard. R. a stall, from which the head of the Bull is visible above the half-door. Enter Farmer Banks... more...

XVI. "Midnight's meridian is supposed to mark The bound twixt toil and slumber. Light and dark Mete out the lives of mortals In happy alternation," said my guide. "Six hours must fleet ere Phoebus shall set wide His glowing orient portals. "The last loud halloo at the tavern-door long since has driven the reckless and the poor From misery's only haven Forth on the chilling... more...

MONSIEUR JOSEPH. On the day that I left hospital, with a month's sick leave in hand, I went to dine at my favourite Soho restaurant, the Mazarin, which I always liked because it provided an excellent meal for an extremely modest sum. But this evening my steps turned towards the old place because I wanted a word with Monsieur Joseph, the head-waiter. I found him the same genial soul as ever, though... 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...

"Great Scot!" [Extorted, by circumstances beyond his control, from a stolid but unsuccessful Saxon Shootist at Bisley and Wimbledon, after the match at the latter place between picked twenties of the London Scottish and the London Rifle Brigade, won easily by the former team.] Oh! the Scot lot are all cracks at a shot, And extremely successful at Hunting the Pot. This particular "Saxon"... more...

WRESTLING WITH WHISTLERS. (A Reminiscence of a Recent Exhibition.) SCENE—The Goupil Gallery. Groups of more or less puzzled Britons discovered, conscientiously endeavouring to do justice to the Collection, having realised that Mr. WHISTLER's work is now considered entitled to serious consideration, but feeling themselves unable to get beyond a timid tolerance. In addition to these, there are... 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...

25 MARCH 1914. The attention of the American Ambassador has been called to the danger of after-dinner speaking. There is many a true word said in digestion—and the truth is apt to hurt sensitive nations. Art circles continue to seethe with indignation over the National Gallery outrage. Even the Post-Impressionists have now no sympathy with the Suffragettes, for they realise that, while in this... more...