I looked at my friend Shylock Humes, and then at the huddled figure in the leather armchair. "Dead, Humes?" I ejaculated. It was all right, the butler had a cloth I could use. "No, Flotsam", answered my friend Shylock Humes. "I am not dead - though, in view of the paltry audience we get for this rubbish, I may as well be. No, I mean the figure in this leather armchair. His Lordship. He is qu...
A shock government report leaked to journalists suggests that goldfish, mainly the ones kept in glass bowls on old people's sideboards or TV sets, actually do get bored. An exhaustive study has revealed that goldfish kept in cramped spaces, such a...
"Inspector Livingstone-Stanley I presume!" I ejaculated (where was Mrs Dudson with her cloth when you needed it). The Inspector winced, as he always did when I made this joke (the David Livingstone joke, not the ejaculation joke - the latter is just between me and you). Inspector Stanley Livingstone-Stanley was all for bursting into the parlour to see Shylock Humes, but I was able to foresta...
Throckmortons was packed. There was a sale of hats on. I fought my way through the crowd, determined to avoid being taken for a fool, and to stick to my mission - the purchase of two storage jars for fruit-bottling purposes. An hour later, alighting from the hansom at 221B Candlestick Maker Street with the new storage jars, a top hat, a sou'wester and a bowler, I was accosted by a thoroughly d...
"Make a long arm and consult Bradshaw, Flotsam!" My friend Shylock Humes sat hunched in his armchair like a broken-backed black beetle smoking his 'thinking pipe'. Why he wanted an armchair shaped like a pipe-smoking beetle was beyond me. At least I could rely on good old Bradshaw. "You need the 5:30 express from Victoria, Humes, as far as Littlehampton. Then take the 9:15 Rottingdean sleepe...
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