Games/Humor Books

THE MUD-LARKS. Our mess was situated on the crest of a ridge, and enjoyed an uninterrupted view of rolling leagues of mud; it had the appearance of a packing-case floating on an ocean of ooze. We and our servants, and our rats and our cockroaches, and our other bosom-companions slept in tents pitched round and about the mess. The whole camp was connected with the outer world by a pathway of ammunition... more...

MODERN TYPES. (By Mr. Punch's Own Type Writer.) No. XIX.—THE SERVANT OF SOCIETY. The Servant of Society is one who, having in early life abdicated every claim to independent thought or action, is content to attach himself to the skirts and coat-tails of the great, and to exist for a long time as a mere appendage in mansions selected by the unerring instinct of a professional tuft-hunter. It is... more...

July 8, 1914 Lord Brassey is said to be annoyed at the way in which his recent adventure at Kiel was exaggerated. He landed, it seems, on the mole of the Kaiser Dockyard, not noticing a warning to trespassers—and certain of our newspapers proceeded at once to make a mountain out of the mole. Mr. Roosevelt's American physician, Dr. Alexander Lambert, has confirmed the advice of his European... more...

No. IX.—THE DUFFER DEER-STALKING. I am in favour of Mr. BRYCE's Access to Mountains Bill, and of Crofters who may be ambitious to cultivate the fertile slopes of all the Bens in Scotland. In fact, I am in favour of anything that will, or may, interfere with the tedious toil of Deer-stalking. Mr. BRYCE's Bill, I am afraid, will do no good. People want Access to Mountains when they cannot get... more...

TO THE FIRST BATHING-MACHINE. (After Wordsworth.) O blank new-comer! I have seen, I see thee with a start: So gentle looking a Machine, Infernal one thou art! When first the sun feels rather hot, Or even rather warm, From some dim, hibernating spot Rolls forth thy clumsy form. Perhaps thou babblest to the sea Of sunshine and of flowers; Thou bringest but a thought to me Of such bad quarter hours. I,... more...

MODERN TYPES. (By Mr. Punch's own Type Writer.) No. XX.—THE DIVORCÉE. The Court over which Sir JAMES HANNEN presides was instituted for the purification of morals by the separation of ill-assorted couples. Matrimonial errors, which had hitherto stood upon the level of political grievances, capable of redress only after the careful and unbiassed attention of British legislators had been, at much... more...

A PAIR OF MILITARY GLOVES. It was in Italy, on my way home from Egypt to be demobilised, that I decided to buy a pair of warm gloves from Ordnance. After being directed by helpful other ranks to the A.S.C. Depot, the Camp Commandant's Office and the Y.M.C.A., I found myself, at the end of a morning's strenuous walking, confronted by notices on a closed door stating that this was the... more...

MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS. NEW SERIES.—IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT. This age has been called an Age of Progress, an Age of Reform, an Age of Intellect, an Age of Shams; everything in fact except an Age of Prizes. And yet, it is perhaps as an Age of Prizes that it is destined to be chiefly remembered. The humble but frantic solver of Acrostics has had his turn, the correct expounder of the law of Hard... more...

INTRODUCTION. The Old Year was fast nearing its close, the night was clear and starry, and Father Time, from the top of his observatory tower, was taking a last look round. To him entered, unannounced save by the staccato yap of the faithful Tobias, Time's unfailing friend, unerring Mentor, and immortal contemporary, Mr. Punch. "I am not for an age, but for All Time," freely quoted the... more...

December 23, 1914. An exceptionally well-informed Berlin newspaper has discovered that, owing to the war, Ireland is suffering from a horse famine, and many of the natives are now to be seen driving cattle. An appeal is being made in Germany for cat-skins for the troops. In their Navy, on the other hand, they often get the cat itself. In offering congratulations to the "Green Howards" on the... more...