Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 102, February 27, 1892   By: Various

"Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 102, February 27, 1892" is a delightful collection of satirical and humorous sketches, articles, and cartoons that provide a sharp commentary on the society and politics of its time. The magazine offers a glimpse into the Victorian era with its witty and clever writing that still manages to resonate with readers today.

The editorial team behind this edition of Punch has managed to strike a balance between light-hearted humor and pointed criticism, making the publication both entertaining and thought-provoking. The cartoons in particular are a standout feature, with their detailed illustrations and clever wordplay adding an extra layer of enjoyment to the reader's experience.

Despite being over a century old, many of the topics covered in "Punch, or the London Charivari" remain relevant today, demonstrating the enduring appeal of its brand of satire. Overall, this volume is a fascinating read for fans of history, satire, and comedy alike, offering a unique window into the culture and values of a bygone era.

First Page:

To hear my remarks on the Cricket, in the Pavilion, you might think that I had been a great player entirely, in my day. "Who is that fine old English sportsman," you might ask, "who seems to have been so intimate with MYNN, and FULLER PILCH, and CARPENTER, and HAYWARD and TARRANT and JACKSON and C.D. MARSHAM? No doubt we see in him the remains of a sterling Cricketer of the old school." And then when I lay down the law on the iniquity of boundary hits, "always ran them out in my time," and on the tame stupidity of letting balls to the off go unpunished, and the wickedness of dispensing with a long stop, you would be more and more pursuaded that I had at least, played for my county. Well, I have played for my county, but as the county I played for was Berwickshire, there is perhaps nothing to be so very proud of in that distinction. But this I will say for the Cricketing Duffer; he is your true enthusiast. When I go to Lord's on a summer day, which of my contemporaries do I meet there? Not the men who played for the University, not the KENNYS and MITCHELLS and BUTLERS, but the surviving members of College Second Elevens in the old days of Cowley Marsh, when every man brought his own bottle of Oxford wine for luncheon... Continue reading book >>