Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, February 19, 1919

Name: Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, February 19, 1919
Author: Various

Various

English wit and humor -- Periodicals

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[Illustration: THE MAN WHO GOT HIS MONEY'S WORTH.]

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[Illustration: _The Demobilised One_. "SEEMS FUNNY TO THINK THAT ONLY
LAST WEEK I WAS WALKING ABOUT LOOKING LIKE THAT, EH?"]

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LITERARY OPTIONS.

In these days of ever-increasing strikes it is suggested, for the
convenience of contributors to those magazines which of necessity
go to press some time in advance, that they should submit to editors
stories with interchangable situations:--

  Algernon Aimless rose { lazily } from the breakfast-table
                        { hastily}

  at { 9 A.M. } on a dark winter's morning { in order
     { 7 A.M. }                            { in preparation

  { to catch the 9.15 to his office in the City.        }
  { for his four-mile trudge to the City (Tube strike). }

  The { electric lights gleamed with dazzling brilliance           }
      { solitary candle shed a dismal light (Electricians' strike) }

  on the { well-polished } china, silver and table cutlery
         { neglected     }

  which { were the joy and pride of the admirable parlourmaid. }
        { no servants' hands had touched for weeks
            (Domestic servants' strike).                       }

  { had glanced casually at his letters.           }
  { had had no letters to read (Postmen's strike). }

  As he stood in the { spotlessly kept and charming } hall,
                     { dusty discomfort of the dark }

  arranging his { sleek well-brushed brown hair      }
                { long untidy hair (Barbers' strike) } before

  putting on his hat, Ermyntrude Aimless { glided  }
                                         { bounced }

  { gracefully down the staircase, clad in a charming
  { breathlessly up from the basement, wearing an old

  { _négligée_ of satin and lace.     }
  { over-all above her dressing-gown. }

  { "A handkerchief, dearest," she murmured. "I was afraid
  { "Your sandwiches, old thing," she gasped. "I believe

  you'd forgotten { to take one;" } and she held out in her
                  {  about 'em;"  }

  { white delicately--manicured hand a silk handkerchief
  { none-too-clean hand an untidy brown-paper parcel which

  { of palest mauve, exquisitely scented.       }
  { contained his luncheon (Restaurant strike). }

NOTE TO INTENDING AUTHORS.--This is not supposed to be a complete
story, but just gives you the idea.

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AT PARIS PLAGE.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 156, February 19, 1919

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