Games/Humor Books

THE MYSTERY OF MR. E. DROOD. AN ADAPTATION. BY ORPHEUS C. KERR. CHAPTER XV. "SPOTTED." When the bell of St. Cow's began ringing for Ritualistic morning-service, with a sound as of some incontinently rambling dun spinster of the lacteal herd—now near at hand in cracked dissonance, as the wind blows hither; now afar, in tinkling distance, as the wind blows... more...

CHAPTER I. We were all sitting on the pig-sty at T'NOWHEAD'S Farm. A pig-sty is not, perhaps, a strictly eligible seat, but there were special reasons, of which you shall hear something later, for sitting on this particular pig-sty. The old sow was within, extended at full length. Occasionally she grunted approval of what was said, but, beyond that, she seemed to show but a faint interest in... more...

IMPRESSIONS OF "IL TROVATORE." (By a Matter-of-Fact Philistine at Covent Garden.) ACT I. SCENE 2.—Leonora's confidant evidently alive to the responsibilities of her position. Watch her, for example, when her Mistress is about to confide to her ear the dawn of her passion for Manrico. She walks Leonora gently down to the footlights, launches her into her solo, like a boat, and stands... more...

THE BIRTH OF THE PRINCE OF WALES. (By the Observer’s own Correspondent.) It will be seen that we were not premature in announcing the probability of the birth of a Prince of Wales; and though it was impossible that any one should be able to speak with certainty, our positive tone upon the occasion serves to show the exclusive nature of all our intelligence. We are enabled now to state that the Prince... more...

THE PRINCE. (A Letter from Nicola Puncio Machiavelli to the Most Illustrious Vittorio Emanuele, Son of Umberto, King of Italy.) I. There never was, nor is at this day, any man in the world who is not either a Prince or not a Prince. Seeing, therefore, that your Highness appertains of right to the class of them that are Princes, and being ambitious to present to your Highness that which should have the... more...

A FIRST VISIT TO THE "NAVERIES." "Shiver my timbers!" said the Scribe. "Haul down my yard-arm with a marling-spike!" cried the Artist. And with these strictly nautical expressions, two of Mr. Punch's Own entered the Royal Naval Exhibition, which now occupies the larger portion of the grounds of the Military Hospital, Chelsea. That so popular a show should be allowed to... more...

October 14, 1914. Strong drinks have now been prohibited all over Russia, and it looks as if Germany is not the only country whose future lies on the water. Rumour has it that Germany is not too pleased with Austria's achievements in the War, and there has been in consequence not a little Potsdam-and-Perlmuttering between the two. "When the Kaiser goes to places beyond the railway," we are... more...

FROM DAY TO DAY. (A Study in Political Journalism, from some of the Morning Papers.) No. I. To-day, the first pollings of the General Election take place, and the electors will be called upon to decide one of the most momentous issues that have ever been submitted to the judgment of the country. For ourselves, we cannot doubt for a moment as to what the verdict will be. It is impossible that a policy... more...

"VERSAILLES" IN LEICESTER SQUARE. (Or, the New Ballet at the Empire, as it appears through Mr. Punch's Pince-nez.) TABLEAU I.—The Park at Versailles. "Gardeners," according to the "Argument" supplied with programmes, "are seen busily preparing for the arrival of King Louis the Fourteenth and his Court." If tickling the gravel gently with brooms, and depositing one... more...

ACT. II.—Scene—Same as in Act I.; viz., the Morning-room at Natterjack Hall. Evening of same day. Enter Blethers. Blethers. Another of Sir Poshbury's birthdays almost gone—and my secret still untold! (Dodders.) I can't keep it up much longer ... Ha, here comes his Lordship—he does look mortal bad, that he do! Miss Verbena ain't treated him too well, from all I can hear, poor... more...