TEXT: [          ]
  
  [          ]
  A Game of Wagers, Wine and 
  Competitive Adventuring
  Can you keep up with Baron Munchausen’s extraordinary adven-
  tures as he travels to the Moon and the Sun, rides cannon-balls, 
  defeats armies single-handed, meets the gods, and escapes from 
  bandits on half a horse?
  The stories of the legendary nobleman come to life as 
  players battle to outdo each other’s  fantastic feats and amazing 
  accomplishments. It’s a role-playing, story-telling game of 
  outrageous originality and swashbuckling exaggeration, stretching 
  the bounds of truth until they twang.
  How is this possible? If Baron Munchausen is involved, 
  anything is possible.
  The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron Munchausen contains full 
  rules, more than two hundred adventures ready to be played, mechanics 
  that replace dice and pencils with money and fine wine, quick-start 
  rules and many insults against the inhabitants of various nations, but 
  principally the French.
  This expanded edition, a facsimile of a suppressed volume originally 
  released in 1808, adds rules for playing the game in an Arabian style 
  and a complete supplementary game, ‘My Uncle the Baron’, designed 
  for children, the inbred and those who are very drunk.
  “The original edition of The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron 
  Munchausen was unique and marvellous. This new edition is even 
  better. If you are a clever person with clever friends, you will enjoy 
  reading and playing it. Let’s not consider the alternative.”
  —Steve Jackson
  “Utter brilliance in RPG form!” 
  —John Kovalic, creator of Dork Tower
  Nominated for Best New RPG in the 1999 Origins Awards
  www.magnumopuspress.com
  
  [          ]
  The 
  EXTRAORDINARY 
  ADVENTURES
  of 
  BARON MUNCHAUSEN  
  told in the form of 
  a NEW STYLE of GAME
  termed RÔLE-PLAY
  by 
  Baron Munchausen.
  s
  A new edition,
  Conſiderably enlarged by the Baron’s own hand, 
  with many remarkable ſtories and advice to his readers.
  Ornamented with ſeveral fine engravings 
  by the Frenchman Mr Guſtave Doré.
  s
  This DIFFERENCE ENGINE no.3 EDITION is suited 
  for members of the royal society, inhabitants of laputa, 
  moon-gazers, galvinists and other sorts of amiable loon 
  who may read it without becoming agitated. 
  s
  LONDON.   Prnted for John & Edward Walls,  Snow Hll,   1808
  This facsimile edition is compiled and edited by James Wallis. 
  Published by Magnum Opus Press,  London.  2008
  
  [          ]
  The editor of this work wishes to extend his grateful 
  thanks to Mr Derek Pearcy,  Mr Michael Cule,  Mr 
  Philip Masters,  Mr Steffan O’Sullivan,  Reverend Garett 
  Lepper,  Mr Kenneth Walton,  Mr Christopher Hartford, 
  Mr Steve Jackson,  Mr John Kovalic,  Mr William 
  Caslon,  Mr Paul Antonio,  Mr Gustave Doré,  Professor 
  Thomas Lockwood and the staff of the British Library’s 
  Rare Books Room for their invaluable assistance in the 
  preparation of this volume.
  THE EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURES
  OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN
  Published by Magnum Opus Press
  29a Abbeville Road, London SW4 9LA, UK
  in association with Flaming Cobra,
  an imprint of Mongoose Publishing Ltd
  Copyright © 1998, 2008 James Wallis, all rights reserved.
  Cover calligraphy by Paul Antonio
  ISBN 978-1-906103-91-0 (hardcover Gentlemen’s Edition)
  ISBN 978-1-906508-15-9 (softcover Wives’ & Servants’ Edition)
  ISBN 978-1-906402-00-6 (PDF Difference Engine no.3 Edition)
  Product code MGP 6120
  
  [          ]
  Dedicated, humbly, to the ladies–– 
  Catherine & Eliza
  
  [     v     ]
  
  [     v     ]
  PREFACE TO THE 1998 EDITION
  T
  he name of Baron Munchausen is one that scarcely 
  needs introduction at any level of society: all Eng-
  land—nay, all of the world—has resounded to the telling 
  and re-telling of his adventures and deeds of great hero-
  ism and renown. Some claim these stories to be exaggera-
  tions or boasts; some see them as fables or metaphors; but 
  there are some still who believe them to be nothing less 
  than the unvarnished truth, and I number myself among 
  that company.
   
  It was my great fortune to meet the Baron a handful of 
  years before his untimely death, in the port of Dover. He 
  had, he claimed, ridden over from France on the back of 
  a sea-horse in order to visit Lord K—, whom a few years 
  previously he had saved from perishing at the rim of the 
  volcano Vesuvius during the military campaign against 
  those fire-sprites which had laid waste to so much of Italy. 
  (It was the Baron’s contention after examination of the 
  ruins at Pompeii that it had been the ancestors of these 
  sprites, and not the barbarian hordes, that had caused the 
  fall of the Roman Empire). He professed to a great love 
  of our capital city and an unfortunate shortage of capital 
  wealth, and accordingly I suggested to him that after he 
  had visited the noble lord he should spend a few days in 
  London in order that he might enjoy the hospitality of 
  my brother and myself, and during which time he could 
  create a new game for us, based on his famous travels and 
  adventures, to be published by my company for the enjoy-
  ment and edification of the reading public.
   
  It had been the Baron’s scheme to proceed from Lord 
  K—’s estate in H—shire to Scotland, where he proposed 
  to harness a carriage to a flock of golden eagles and fly 
  them to the Sun, as a gift for his friend the King of that 
  
  [     v     ]
  sphere. However, he agreed to honour our house with his 
  presence in London, and duly arrived with us a few weeks 
  later, where we began to essay the creation of this manu-
  script.
   
  Perhaps it was my fault for an excess of zeal at the 
  prospect of publishing the design of so august a noble-
  man; or perhaps it was a mistake to leave him under the 
  sole editorship of my son Edward, who had of late been 
  spending much time visiting gin-shops and dens of ill-re-
  pute in the company of several young designers of games 
  from the Americas. Whatever the problem and where-
  insoever lay the blame, the manuscript which the two 
  of them produced had, I learned soon after the Baron’s 
  departure, captured altogether too much of the Baron’s 
  style as a raconteur and bon viveur and too little of the 
  rigour which must inform great designs, such as Edward 
  can produce when not under the influence of foreigners 
  and other undesirables. (I recommend his game An Ar-
  ithmetical Pastime, published this year, as a fine example 
  of his better work. He is not a bad lad.) 
   
  A game of such radical type as is contained herein will, 
  I know, have no success in the London of the eighteenth 
  century nor, I believe, of the nineteenth century neither. 
  It is therefore my intention to seal this valuable—and, I 
  should add, expensive; the Baron being a man accustomed 
  to the grandest living and the finest wines and liqueurs, 
  of which he completely emptied my cellar—manuscript, 
  together with this letter, in a place wherein one of my de-
  scendants may find it and, recognising that the fashion in 
  games has changed sufficiently for a curiosity such as this 
  to find its audience at last, may publish it to the acclaim it 
  deserves.
   
  John Wallis, publisher of games of quality.
   
  No. 42 Skinner Street, Snow Hill, London
   
  this year 1798. 
  
  [     v     ]
  What he said.
   
  James Wallis, director of Hogshead Publishing Ltd
   
  London, 1998.
  PREFACE TO THE 2008 EDITION
  … or so I thought.
   
  After Hogshead Publishing released The Extraordinary 
  Adventures of Baron Munchausen in 1998, a member of my 
  extended family wrote to say that they hadn’t known I 
  was interested in the works of John and Edward Wallis, 
  and enclosed various family papers concerning the two 
  men and their game-publishing business. This allowed 
  me to put together a rough timeline of the history of the 
  Baron’s game, during which I realised that everything I 
  had written about it thus far was wrong.
   
  It became clear that Baron Munchausen had main-
  tained an occasional correspondence with John Wallis af-
  ter 1798, for another nine years—that is, the Baron had 
  written asking for information on the book’s success and 
  any monies that might be owed to him, and John had 
  occasionally responded to say that the market was still 
  not ready for the game. Shortly after the turn of the 19th 
  century the Baron sent John an extension to his original 
  rules, based on his recent journey to Baghdad—the origi-
  nal manuscript survives, albeit stained with something 
  that is either Banyuls or cloudberry wine—but this was 
  still not enough to convince John that the game was suf-
  ficiently commercial to be released.
   
  Things went quiet until 1807, when there was a new 
  flurry of letters. John told the Baron that games were a 
  “childish pursuit” and “for the education of the young”, 
  and since the rules of his game were without educational 
  
  [     v     ]
  merit and not suitable for younger players and, it therefore 
  was not publishable. (One might then ask why John had 
  commissioned the game in the first place; I believe that 
  he had originally thought the Baron would create a map-
  game similar to John’s best-selling Tour through England 
  and Wales of 1794). Three hours later—if the given dates 
  are to be believed—the Baron responded with a new set 
  of rules for younger players, “for the edification of chil-
  dren”, which after a few days of consideration John agreed 
  to publish.
   
  I cannot describe how I felt as I stared for the first 
  time at this exchange of letters. No games historian I had 
  consulted had any record of the publication of the Baron’s 
  game, with or without these new rules, and neither did 
  the British Library. There was no trace that this book had 
  ever actually existed.
   
  And then I found a copy.
   
  I won’t go into the details of how I located what I be-
  lieve is the sole remaining example of the 1808 book titled 
  ‘The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 
  told in the form of a New Style of Game termed Rôle 
  Play, by Baron Munchausen’ because they are irrelevant 
  and quite dull. What is more interesting is the story of the 
  book that I pieced together from surviving fragments of 
  notes, business records and journal entries made by John, 
  Edward and John Junior. 
   
  The game was ready to be published in April 1808. 
  John Wallis sent proof copies to the Baron, who gave 
  them to his friends to publicise the long-awaited release. 
  One of these was Generalmajor Gebhard-Leberecht von 
  Blucher of the Prussian army, who seems to have passed 
  his copy to his brother Albrecht, the commander of the 
  King’s 12th Hussars. Within a week a letter was delivered 
  to London, notifying John that the officers of the 12th 
  considered the contents of the book a “gross defamation, a 
  
  [     x     ]
  criminal, obscene, treasonous and blasphemous libel, and 
  moreover untrue” and that if it was published the entire 
  regiment would sue.
   
  John Wallis, being a games publisher by trade and not 
  used to the cut-and-thrust (in some cases literal) of the 
  bookselling trade in the early years of the nineteenth cen-
  tury, had not thought to have the Baron’s game read for 
  libel, and apparently did not consult a lawyer on the mat-
  ter. Despite the Baron’s assurances that he had duelled the 
  King’s 12th before and would do it again, John panicked 
  and ordered the entire print run destroyed before a single 
  copy was sold to the public. The shock and the financial 
  loss to his business were both severe, and he handed most 
  of the control of it over to his son Edward in 1813, prefer-
  ring to spend his remaining years in designing variants for 
  the Game of the Goose. Though the Baron wrote to him 
  several more times, so far as I can tell he did not respond. 
  He died in 1818.
   
  Luckily for us the King’s 12th Hussars ceased to exist 
  in 1893 and the threat of a present-day libel case is there-
  fore diminished. Sadly, all that remains from the original 
  incident is some scraps of letters and a single damaged 
  copy of the Baron’s book. Nevertheless I believe that this 
  represents an important—not to say unique—addition to 
  our understanding of European games-design techniques 
  and culture of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth 
  century. Therefore, on behalf of my beleagured forebears 
  and the illustrious Baron himself, I am proud to finally 
  present to the games-playing public the full rules for the 
  Baron’s Game, almost completely as he intended.
   
  James Wallis
   
  London, 2008 
  
  [     x     ]
  DISCLAIMER.  
  The words ‘he’,  ‘him’ and ‘his’ are uſed throughout this book as ge-
  neric pronouns of the third-person ſingular.   With ſuch uſage the 
  author,  a man of great gallantry,  wiſhes it to be underſtood he is in 
  no way implying that members of the gentler ſex are any leſs likely 
  to have extraordinary adventures than their male counterparts 
  deſpite their ſeeming frailty,  lack of education and aptitude for 
  goſſiping,  giggling and fainting.   He does not aſſume that flouncy 
  crinolines and a décolletage like alabaſter would not be of the 
  greateſt uſe when engaging in eſpionage againſt the French while 
  diſguiſed as a Corinthian column,  or that extenſive ſkills in needle-
  point,  houſehold management and whiſt would be anything but an 
  aſſet for ſingle-handedly invading Abyſſinia.   To put it ſhortly,  he 
  believes that in many ways women are juſt as brave,  capable and 
  intereſting as men,  and in occaſional circumſtances more so.   Bleſs 
  their little hearts. 
  CONTENTS.
  
  [     x     ]
  C O N T E N T S.
  Introduction.
  The Baron introduces himſelf and his game.––Calls for cognac. .   1
  The Play of the Game.
  A tale of the remote Amazon.–– A deſcription of the game as it is 
  played.––A ſlightly ſordid anecdote of dubious provenance   .   2
  Equipment.
  What you ſhould ſend your manſervant to procure if you wiſh to 
  play this game.     .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    4
  Starting the Game.
  Gathering the company and giving each a purſe.––On untruſtworthy 
  ſervants.–– A digreſſion about paper money and glaſs beads .   4
  Character Generation.
  In which the Baron almoſt avoids writing this ſection. .   .   .   .   5
  Beginning the Play.
  Chooſing the firſt ſtory-teller.–– Chooſing the topic of a ſtory.–– Be-
  ginning the telling of the tale.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   9
  What if the Story-Teller Should Pull Up.
  A ſection whoſe purpoſe is explained by its title .   .   .   .   .   .   .  11
  Objections,  Corrections and Wagers.
  The clever part,  including an illuſtration of play in which the 
  Ducheſs of Dunſtable finds herſelf in a tickliſh ſpot  .   .   .   .  11
  On Being Noble.
  A long,  dull and entirely unneceſſary digreſſion,  ſaved only by its 
  erudition.––Concerning Italians.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 16
  Companions.
  
  [     x     ]
  Companions.
  A further digreſſion on the people who may accompany noblemen on 
  their travels.–– The difference between them and ſervants,  in-
  cluding many inſulting remarks about the French  .   .   .   .   . 20
  Objections and Wagers,  continued.
  In which the Baron clarifies a number of the matters he had left 
  unexplained before he began his digreſſion.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .  22
  Duelling.
  Refuſal to term it the ‘combat ſyſtem’.––The nature of duels, for 
  which the Baron ſhows too much reliſh.–– Finding a ſecond after 
  midnight in Prague.––An appeal for money. .   .   .   .   .   .   .  23
  Duelling for Cowards.
  In which the Baron diſplays a lack of reſpect for his readers,  and 
  goes to dinner.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 26
  The Result of a Duel.
  Rules ſtuff.––Bounty is not explained in this ſection.  .   .   .   .   . 30
  Finishing a Story.
  Finiſhing a tale.––Pointing out to others that they have finiſhed their 
  tale.––Forcing bores to conclude their narrative.––The paſſing 
  of play.––Bounty is not explained in this ſection either.  .   .   .  31
  Determining a winner.
  How to decide the beſt ſtory.–– Voting for a victor. .   .   .   .   .   . 34
  Ending the Game.
  Mercifully a ſhort ſection,  moſtly about buying wine .   .   .   .   .  35
  A Word on Tactics.
  In which the Baron deſcribes why he is known as the fineſt racon-
  teur in all of Europe.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  37
  In
  
  [     x     ]
  My
  In Conclusion.
  A falſe ſtart.     .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .  38
  Background.
  In which the Baron eſſays to change the title of the ſection to 
  ‘Hiſtorical Setting’ .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 39
  Historical Setting.
  He ſucceeds. A brief deſcription of the world as it is in 17–– .    . 39
  In Conclusion.
  The Baron’s cloſing thoughts.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  41
  Appendix One :  Tell Us Baron, The Story Of …
  For thoſe with little imagination,  the Baron here provides more 
  than two hundred ideas for adventures to be told among the com-
  pany,   uſing many of his own exploits as inſpiration.  .   .   .   . 43
  Appendix Two :  The Rules In Brief
  The rules in brief,  for eaſe of reference and for thoſe who have not 
  been paying attention  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 54
  The Baron’s Late 
  Adventures in Araby.
  A variation on the Baron’s original game,  in the form of a letter. 
  Being a letter it has no chapters and thus goes on for ſeveral pages, 
  which we repreſent by the length of this deſcription,  ſo as to in-
  dicate to readers the duration of the Baron’s writing on this moſt 
  intereſting ſubject.–– Five lines ſhould be ſufficient     .    .    .    .  57
  Es-Sindibad’s Rules.
  The Baron deſcribes the variant rules for his game created by the 
  traveller and teller of tales Es-Sindibad the Sailor.  .   .   .   . 70
  
  [     xv     ]
  My Uncle the Baron.
  A new ſet of rules,  a ſimpler form of the Baron’s original game, 
  which he intends for the uſe,  pleaſure and edification of children, 
  the inbred and thoſe who are very drunk  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  75
  To Play the Game.
  The Baron makes a firſt attempt to return to the matter of writing 
  a game.––Fails in ſpectacular manner.––  Eſſay on the Antipodes 
  and a novel way to travel there.––   The Baron meets a god.    . 78
  To Play the Game.
  The Baron propoſes dividing the ſection in two halves.––   Fails ſo to 
  do and becomes confuſed .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 82
  To Play the Game.
  The Baron realiſes his error and reverts to his former ſcheme.  .  83
  Ludens Minor.
  A ſection of great erudition concerning the origins and hiſtory of the 
  Baron’s new game, of much intereſt to ſcholars and others who 
  may purchaſe this book.––The Baron meets another god.  .   .  85
  To Play the Game.
  In which the Baron begins to deſcribe how to play the game––Cake 
  is mentioned,  not for the laſt time.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 86
  The First Round.
  How to play the firſt round of the game.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  87
  Changing Tack.
  Deſcribing the manner of altering the direction of a ſtory once it is 
  underway.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 89
  Faltering
  
  [     xv     ]
  List
  Faltering and Falling.
  How a player may give his fellows a chance to remove him.  .   . 90
  Challenges.
  How the remaining players may take advantage of a fellow who 
  falters or falls in order to remove him.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .  91
  A Section With a Title Too Long to Repeat Here.
  Beginning a new round.–– The rules for another moſt amuſing game, 
  ‘Quis exit?’  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .  93
  Ludens Major.
  An additional rule for the game to add ſpice and danger, for thoſe 
  who have grown bored of its ſimpler form .   .   .   .   .   .   .   . 94
  By Way of an Example.
  A demonſtration of the game as it is played.   More cake here .   . 95
  My Uncle the Baron Once....
  A collection of tales for the uſe of those incapable of thinking of their 
  own due to a paucity of ſuitable uncles or an exceſs of wine. 101
  My Shorter Uncle the Baron.
  The rules of the game in a ſummary, as written by a friend of the 
  Baron’s with fewer words. .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   103
  Epilogue.
  In which the Baron tells the moſt extraordinary ſtory of his life, at 
  which all readers will marvel and be amazed .   .   .   .   .   105
  About the Authors.
  
  [     xv     ]
  To protect the leſs robuſt ſenſibilities of thoſe of the frailer ſex and 
  lower claſſes who may read his book, the Baron has ordered that 
  the laſcivious illuſtration on this page be removed from the leſs 
  expenſive editions leſt it corrupt and deprave the viewer.
  
  [     xv     ]
  List of Illustrations.
  Frontiſpiece.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .iv
  No picture is here in this edition.   .   .   .   .   .   .   . xvi
  The Baron journeys to viſit the Moon.    .    .    .    xviii
  The Baron in discuſſion with a fellow officer.  .   .   . 8
  The Baron diſplays his  horſemanſhip.    .    .    .    .    18
  Not the ſtag that the Baron killed with a cake.    .   28
  The Baron ſees that his horſe has loſt two ſhoes.  .   36
  The Baron eſcapes a dual attack.     .    .    .    .    .    .   44
  The Baron’s opponents prepare to duel him.    .    .    56
  Surpriſed by a giant Rukh bird.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   62
  Uſing a fiſh as a means of tranſport.   .   .   .   .   .   . 68
  A curious incident in the Polar regions. .   .   .   .   .  74
  The Baron greets two improperly clad deities .   .  84
  The Baron has trouble locating his horſe.    .    .    .  92
  A most uſeful tip for travellers.  .   .   .   .   .   .   .   100
  The Baron journeys by hot-air balloon.  .   .   .   104
  INTRODUCTION.
  
  [     xv     ]
  The Baron journeys to viſit the Emperor of the Moon,  during 
  which voyage he learned the rules to this Game from an inhabitant 
  of the Dog-Star (page 26).
  
  [     1     ]
  I N T R O D U C T I O N.
  Wherein Baron Munchauſen explains the reaſons for the 
  writing of his game.
  A
  S I AM a man who s known as much for hs scru-
  pulous honesty n the retellng of hs tales as for hs 
  amazng adventures around,  across and n some cases 
  through the crcumference of the globe,  I have been asked 
  by my frends why I should wsh to put my name——an 
  old and most dstngushed name :  accordng to the fam-
  ly records there was a Munchausen stowed away upon the 
  Ark——to a game for the tellng of extraordnary tales and 
  unlkely anecdotes. 
   
  My answer s smple.   My reputaton,  and wth t the re-
  tellng of several of my astoundng adventures,  has spread 
  throughout the cvlsed world,  across oceans,  to deep-
  est Afrque and farthest Nppon,  to the twn worlds of the 
  Sun and the Moon and the strange peoples who lve there, 
  and even nto France.   Therefore wherever I travel I find 
  that I am constantly prevaled upon to retell these stores, 
  whch requests I feel unable to refuse,  beng a man of noble 
  breedng.   
   
   
  Accordngly I find myself wthout a moments’ peace 
  from nncompoops who would hear once agan the tale of 
  how my companons and I were swallowed by a whale,  or 
  how I rode a cannonball through the sky over Constant-
  nople.   And often I am rewarded wth nothng but a small 
  glass of the roughest brandy,  or even water !   Am I some 
  marketplace storyteller to act and jg for ther amusement ? 
  No !   I am a nobleman,  a solder and an adventurer,  whle 
  they are nnnes all,  and henceforth I wll have naught else 
  to do wth them,  or be damned.
   
   Wth the publcaton of ths game (whch I here humbly 
  dedcate
  
  [     2     ]
  dedcate to the two people most mportant n ts wrtng : 
  vz. myself and the Empress of Russa) I mean to provde 
  those who would harass me wth the means to tell astound-
  ng stores to each other wthout my presence.   Ths,  not 
  solely a great boon to cvlsaton and a source of mnor n-
  come to myself——whch reason,  I assure my dlgent read-
  ers,  was hndmost n my mnd durng the composton of 
  ths work——wll also mean that I am able to spend more 
  tme wth those to whom my presence and charsma s more 
  desrable :  to wt,  the lades of the company.   I beleve that 
  ths may be the greatest nnovaton n game desgn snce the 
  Collectble Tarot Deck,  whch I nvented whle ncarcerat-
  ed n the Bastlle on a spurous charge of mportng qunces 
  on a Sunday.   But I dgress.
   
  I shall begn to descrbe the game presently,  but first I 
  must remnd my readers of one mportant fact.   Ths s a 
  game of tellng stores,  and many of those stores wll be 
  based on the astonshng adventures I have had——n ther 
  style,  f not n ther precse content.   But whle the stores 
  you tell are fictons,  my adventures are all true n every de-
  tal.   To say otherwse s to call me a lar,  and to pretend 
  your fances happened to me s to call me a charlatan,  and 
  srrah,  f you do ether I shall take you outsde and gve you 
  a show of swordsmanshp that wll dazzle you so greatly 
  you wll be blnded by ts sparks for a month.   I am a noble-
  man,  sr,  and I am not to be trfled wth.
   
  Now pass the cognac.   No,  clockwse,  you oaf.   
  THE PLAY OF THE GAME.
  M
  Y GAME s a smple one.   The players st around a 
  table,  preferably wth a bottle of a decent wne or an 
  nterestng lqueur to mosten ther throats,  and each takes 
  a turn to tell a story of an astonshng explot or adventure. 
  The
  
  [     3     ]
  The subject  of the tale s prompted by one of the others, 
  and the rest of the company may nterrupt wth questons 
  and observatons,  as they see fit,  and whch t s the task 
  of the tale’s teller to rebut or avod.   When all are done he 
  who has told the best story buys drnks for hs companons 
  and,  the players beng sutably re-fortfied,  the game may 
  begn agan.
   
  The nspraton for my en-gamficaton of ths ancent 
  and noble pursut comes not from a rtual of I wtnessed 
  among the trbes of the Amazon rver,  as I have clamed n 
  the past (ther game,  I am remnded by several noted au-
  thortes,  s more along the lne of spllkns ;   n my de-
  fence I confess that the trbesmen had forced me to consume 
  a great quantty of sage and onon pror to roastng me,  and 
  my senses were confused) but nstead from a memorable 
  evenng I spent n a coachng-nn outsde St Petersburg,  n 
  the late wnter of 17——.   
   
  Myself and several other travellers,  many of us adven-
  turers and solders of great renown,  had been caught by a 
  sudden blzzard and forced to spend the nght n the same 
  nn.   However,  beng suddenly crowded the nn had fewer 
  beds than patrons.   Havng firstly allowed the lades of 
  the company to retre to sleep,  the gentlemen agreed to a 
  contest to see who would receve the remanng unoccuped 
  rooms,  and who would be forced to seek ther repose n the 
  stables or——worse——wth the servants.
   
  Accordngly we sat down to a contest or wager,  and when 
  t was dscovered that none of the company had cards,  dce, 
  teetotums or backgammon board about them,  we agreed to 
  a contest of stores.   Each man among our number took a 
  turn to ask the neghbour on hs rght hand to recount one 
  of hs most extraordnary adventures ;   and the others of 
  us then tested the tale on the wheels of veracty,  credblty 
  and laudablty.   
   
  When all were done a vote was taken and I,  by sheer 
  cunnng
  
  [     4     ]
  cunnng,  came fifth.   Ths poston exled me to a tny attc 
  garret,  the locaton of whch allowed me to sneak out when 
  the rest of the company was asleep,  to spend the rest of the 
  nght warm beneath the counterpan of the Duke of N——’s 
  daughter,  whose beauty and proxmate room number I had 
  noted before the game began.   Heren les one of the central 
  prncples of the pastme I wll shortly descrbe,  and the 
  core of ts phlosophy :  t counts not whether you wn or 
  lose,  but how you play the game.
   
  Ths game tself follows n smlar fashon,  but wth-
  out the presence of the noble Duke’s daughter.   More s the 
  pty.
  EqUIPMENT.
  T
  O PLAY my game you wll requre three or more stout 
  frends,  preferably of noble or at least gentle brth ;   a 
  table ;   several chars ;   a copous supply of drnks,  prefer-
  ably wth a charmng wench to serve them ;   and some cons 
  to serve as stakes and to pay the reckonng when all s done. 
  If you have such thngs to hand then some parchment,  pens 
  and nk,  a cold nght,  a roarng fire and a good supply of 
  food are also advsed,  and t s always provdent to have 
  a manservant or two n attendance.   You wll need naught 
  else,  save for a few trfles such as I shall set forth hereto.
  STARTING THE GAME.
  G
  ATHER THE company and count ts members. 
  If t s late n the evenng then ask a manservant or 
  potboy to do t for you.   Make sure that each player has 
  a purse of cons before them equal to the total number of 
  players—do not ask a servant to do ths,  servants beng by 
  nature
  
  [     5     ]
  nature a shfty and feckless lot who wll as soon rob a man 
  blnd as help hm out of a dtch,  and I have been robbed n 
  enough dtches to know.   If your company numbers less 
  than five,  then gve each one five cons.   If t numbers more 
  than twenty then thnk not of playng the game :  nstead I 
  advse you to pool your purses,  hre some mercenares and 
  plan an nvason of Belgum.
   
  The exact nature of the con you use s not mportant but 
  I wll make a few salent observatons on the subject,  drawn 
  from my experences of testng ths game n the courts of 
  the Orent where,  despte the fact that I spoke none of ther 
  language and they none of mne,  t played tolerably well. 
  Frst,  all the cons should be of the same value,  to save on 
  arguments.   Second,  they need not actually be cons——I 
  have played wth coloured glass baubles n darkest Afrque, 
  where the natves possess such thngs n abundance——they 
  are gven them by mssonares and,  havng eaten the ms-
  sonares,  have no more use for the beads.   Thrd,  anyone 
  who proposes playng wth paper money——fit for nothng 
  more than wpng one’s a–e——s clearly no gentleman and 
  should be drummed out of your company and your club 
  forthwth.   
   
  If the company are not too drunk,  tred or bored,  then 
  you should move to Character Generaton.   Otherwse you 
  may omt t.   Or omt t altogether.
  CHARACTER GENERATION.
  M
  Y PUBLISHER’S son,  who serves me n the office 
  of scrbe and edtor,  clams that he has consulted 
  wth the greatest lvng authortes on such matters,  and 
  that t s necessary for games such as ths,  n whch one must 
  ‘play’ a ‘role’,  to have a secton of ths lk f they are to find 
  any success wth the educated readng publc.   I am hopng 
  that
  
  [     6     ]
  that these few lnes wll suffice,  and that he wll have been 
  so far n hs cups last nght that he wll recognse the head-
  ng above and wll not notce,  hs senses stll befuddled by 
  cheap gn,  that below t I have merely made a few ponted 
  observatons to my readers on the perls of dealng wth 
  such Grub Street types.
   
  No.   It seems he has detected my subterfuge and has 
  confiscated the second bottle of the excellent cognac whch 
  we had been enjoyng.   I am not accustomed to gvng n to 
  kdnappng,  blackmal and threats of ransom,  but n ths 
  case t seems preferable to spllng my host’s son’s blood on 
  hs drawng-room carpet.
   
  To the matter then.   In essayng the busness of charac-
  ter generaton you wll requre a pece of parchment and a 
  pen——I assume that,  havng receved a proper educaton, 
  you are able to read and wrte ;   n Latn at least.   If not,  t 
  s my experence that passng prests wll often agree to per-
  form the servce of wrtng your name for you.   If no prest 
  or clerk s handy,  summon one.   If one s not to be found, 
  or you are unable to procure the servces of one through 
  pecunary dfficultes,  say by havng lost your purse n an 
  ll-advsed bet on the growth of an asparagus-spear wth 
  the Kng of the Moon,  then I advse you to pass ths secton 
  wthout a second thought.
   
  Wrte,  or ask your companon to wrte,  your name at 
  the top of the paper,  wth the prefix ‘Baron’——or ‘Count’, 
  ‘Lord’,  ‘Duke’,  ‘Archbshop’ or whatsoever honorfic s ap-
  proprate.   If your company ncludes those of  foregn ex-
  tracton they may nstead wsh to use ttles such as ‘Graaf’, 
  ‘Don’,  ‘Sultan’,  ‘Shekh’,  ‘Amr’ or,  as I gather s the fash-
  on n the Amercas,  ‘Chef Executve Officer’.   In ths age 
  of unversal suffrage,  now that women have finally won the 
  rght they have gansad for generatons,  to own property, 
  we must not forget the fraler sex too :  ‘Baroness’,  ‘Coun-
  tess’,
  
  [     7     ]
  tess’,  ‘Empress’ and so forth are equally permssble,  on 
  the sole condton that they promse not to dot ther ‘’s wth 
  small love-hearts. 
   
  If you were not born to such rank then,  snce ths s 
  naught but a game,  you may wrte whatever takes your fan-
  cy——but srrah,  I warn you that should I meet a man who 
  clams to be of noble blood but who s not——and wth my 
  age,  experence and prodgous nose,  together wth the art 
  of scent-scryng as taught to me by an Esqumau n reward 
  for savng hm from a herd of mad walruses,  I can smell 
  them,  srrah,  I can smell them——then I shall so dzzy hm 
  wth my raper that he be unable to remember hs own name 
  and the drecton he faces,  much less the noble ttle he pre-
  tends to.
   
  Beneath ths,  wrte whatsoever takes your fancy.   I have 
  found t most useful for recordng the callng-addresses 
  and pedgree of any especally charmng lades who catch 
  my eye durng the evenng.   Ths s the most mportant pur-
  pose of one’s ‘character sheet’,  or wth any so-named ‘char-
  acter’ thus created.   
   
  For character,  as the most oafish baronet’s son can tell 
  you,  s not generated but forged on the anvl of lfe.   It s 
  only when the blows of experence rng n our ears that we 
  move another step on lfe’s path,  becomng by stages more 
  rounded or sharpened,  our corners knocked off or our fea-
  tures more pontedly defined ;   and not by some artfical 
  process of tossng teetotums or jugglng figures lke some 
  nk-staned clerk n a wndowless cellar hard by Thread-
  needle Street.   Our souls are formed by first dong and then 
  recollectng the experence of those deeds so that we and 
  others mght learn from them,  and that s the very proc-
  ess whch my game——nay,  my lfe——descrbes.   Character 
  generaton ?   {Here the Baron made an unpleaſant noiſe in his 
  throat.}  I’ll none of t.
  BEGINNING
  
  [     8     ]
  The Baron diſcuſſes with a fellow officer the etiquette of who is to 
  ſtart a new game (page 9).
  
  [     9     ]
  BEGINNING THE PLAY.
  O
  NCE ALL the company have ether generated char-
  acters or dscoursed themselves on the foolshness of 
  such an undertakng,  then you are ready to commence the 
  play of the game proper.   
   
  The player to start s the member of the company wth 
  the hghest rank n socety.   Standard rules of etquette ap-
  ply :  relgous ttles are always deemed greater than hered-
  tary ttles,  and those hgher than mltary ttles ;   f of sm-
  lar rank then compare subsdary ttles,  number of estates 
  or centures that the ttle has been n the famly ;   youth de-
  fers to age ;   when n doubt the hghest mltary decoraton 
  takes senorty ;   and for the rest I refer you to the works of 
  Messrs Debrett or Collns.   
   
  If by some mschance of brth or the poor organsaton of 
  your host you are all commoners then the first player shall 
  be he who was wse enough to purchase the most recent ed-
  ton of my game.   If several have,  then I thank them all ; 
  f none have then I worry f you possess sufficent under-
  standng the nature and responsbltes of noblty to play 
  a game such as ths,  relyng as t does on good judgement, 
  generosty of sprt,  proper understandng of the necessty 
  of the patronage of worthy artsts,  wrters and publshers, 
  and not beng a pnch-penny.   If ths manner of begnnng 
  s not agreeable,  then the player to start should be he who 
  was last to refill the company’s glasses.
   
  However you do so,  once the person to start has been 
  determned,  he must begn the game.   To do that,  he must 
  turn to the person sttng at hs rght hand and ask hm to 
  tell the company the tale of one of hs famous adventures. 
  By way of example,   therefore :  “ Dear Baron,   entertain us 
  “ with your recollections of the war of 17——,   which you fought 
  “ ſingle-handed againſt the French and won,” 
  or :
  
  [     10     ]
  or :  “ Most honoured and noble prince,   if you could refrain mo- 
  “ mentarily from the gracious attentions you are paying to my ſiſter, 
  “ mayhap you might ſatisfy our curioſity on the matter of how it 
  “ was that you eſcaped from the prison of Akkra after you had been 
  “ burned at the ſtake there two days earlier ?”
   
  For those unable to thnk of a sufficently extraordnary 
  and humorous topc for a story,  I have ncluded n an ap-
  pendx some two hundred of the subjects drawn from my 
  own explots,  a mere fracton of the total,  whch the less 
  quck-wtted player may use for nspraton.   Whether you 
  choose to use one of my examples or one of out of your own 
  magnaton,  remember at all tmes that the subject of the 
  story to be told should only be revealed to the person who 
  wll tell t a few seconds before they must start ther nar-
  ratve.   Through ths surprse much good humour may be 
  ganed.
   
  The player thus surprsed must now recount the story 
  that has been demanded——perhaps based upon a story 
  of mne,  perhaps on an adventure of hs own,  or perhaps 
  from the whole cloth of hs magnngs.   He may,  however, 
  pause for a moment of thought by commencng hs tale by 
  exclamng,  “ Ah!” and then perhaps addng,  “ Yes!” Any 
  further procrastnaton s unseemly.   Throw a bread-roll at 
  any recondte fellows to hurry them along.
   
  Tales should be short,  of around five mnutes,  and told 
  at a good pace wthout hestaton or undue pausngs for 
  thought.   Inflectons,  gestures,  mmes,  props and strange 
  voces may all be used,  although the narrator s warned not 
  to go too far :  he s,  after all,  born to the arstocracy——or 
  pretendng to be so.   I well remember playng ths game wth 
  the Grand Segnor of Turkey whle he held me for ransom 
  n Constantnople.   For one story he hred a troupe of ac-
  tors,  a band of tumblers,  conjurors and dancng grls,  and 
  sx elephants.   The tale lasted three days and four nghts, 
  and when the company dd not elect t the best,  preferrng 
  my
  
  [     11     ]
  my own anecdote on how I dscovered the seedless grape, 
  he had us all beheaded . . . but enough of that for now.
  WHAT IF THE STORY-TELLER
  SHOULD PULL UP.
  I
  F A PLAYER s unwllng to tell hs story to the com-
  pany,  or falters n the recountng,  then he may plead 
  that hs throat s too dry to tell the tale ;   and good man-
  ners demand that the company let hm retre honourably. 
  However,  good manners also demand that he must then 
  obtan a drnk to wet hs throat,  and n dong so t would 
  be greatly mpolte not to furnsh the rest of the company 
  wth refreshment also.   In short,  a player may declne to 
  tell a story,  but must stand each member of the company a 
  drnk f he so do.
   
  Havng so declned,  and the drnks havng been or-
  dered,  the player n queston shall turn to the player on 
  ther rght hand and,  as s the form,  propose the subject of 
  a tale for them to tell.
  OBJECTIONS,  CORRECTIONS
  AND WAGERS.
  F
  OR THE benefit of my duller readers I should pont 
  out that ths secton on challenges and wagers s the 
  cleverest part of my game—although due to the unneces-
  sarly rgd structure mposed on me by my dlgent but 
  perhaps over-strct publsher,  I must wat untl later to ex-
  plan exactly why ths s so.
   
  The course of a narratve never shall run smooth,  as the 
  poet has t,  for the other players of the game may at any 
  pont nterrupt the storyteller wth an objecton or a correc-
  ton
  
  [     12     ]
  ton n the form of a wager.   They may do ths because they 
  have spotted a flaw or naccuracy n the teller’s tale,  or be-
  cause they wsh to trp hm up wth spurous nformaton, 
  or to test hs truthfulness and mettle,  or because the fellow 
  s drawng dull and needs spce.
   
  A wager s accomplshed by the player pushng forward 
  one (never more than one) of the cons n hs purse—we shall 
  call t the stake——and breakng nto the flow of the tale.   A 
  wager would be cast n the manner of these examples :  
  “ Baron,  I believe the King of the Moon at the time was Umbum-
  “ Mumbumbu,  and not as you ſay Louis XIV who,  as King of the 
  “ Sun,  was his mortal enemy” ; 
   
  or :  
  “ You claim,  my gentle friend,  that the Earth travels around the 
  “ Sun,  but the Royal Society has proved comprehenſively that the 
  “ oppoſite is true and that Galileo’s publications on the ſubject 
  “ were  merely part of an Opus Dei diſinformation plot” ;   
   
  or :  
  “ But Count,  it is well known that the Empreſs has a hatred of 
  “ giraffes after her lap-dog was eaten by a mad one” ; 
   
  or :  
  “ But Ducheſs,  at the time of which you ſpeak the Coloſſus of 
  “ Rhodes had been a fallen ruin for fifty years,  so you could not poſ-
  “ ſibly have climbed it” ;   
   
  or :  
  “ My dear Conteſſa,  I have heard you avow that you have a mor-
  “ tal allergy to cats.   How is it then that you ſay you married one ?”   
  or any of a thousand other possbltes or curous and rel-
  evant objectons.   A wager need not be strctly correct,  vis-
  a-vis the facts,  but t must be amusng or nterestng.
   
  If the matter of the nterrupter’s nserton s correct——
  n other words,  f the teller of the story decdes to take the 
  proffered detal and buld t nto hs anecdote——then he 
  must
  
  [     13     ]
  must agree wth hs fellow and may keep the con that was 
  pushed forward.   However,  he must then perforce explan 
  how the events ntroduced n hs fellow’s nterrupton dd 
  not mpede hm n the adventure he s descrbng.   
   
  If,  however,  the teller of the story does not wsh to buld 
  the objecton or correcton nto hs story,  then he may push 
  the nterrupter’s con away along wth a con from hs own 
  purse,  and nform the other that he s a dolt who knows 
  nothng of what he speaks and gets hs nformaton from 
  the tttle-tattle of old mads n gn-houses.   
   
  In ths latter case,  f the one who nterrupted s not pre-
  pared to stand ths nsult to hs honour and veracty,  he may 
  add another con to the ple and return t to the story-teller, 
  makng hs case for the nterrupton more forcefully and re-
  turnng the nsult wth nterest.   The story-teller may agan 
  turn the stake away by addng another con and another n-
  sult ;   and so on untl one sde wthdraws hs objecton and 
  accepts the nsult (thus keepng the ple of cons),  or one 
  party has exhausted hs funds but wll not stand down——n 
  whch case a duel must be fought.   (See ‘Duellng’ below, 
  the wrtng of whch secton I am antcpatng wth not a lt-
  tle relsh.) 
   
  To gve a sample of ths process n the passage of a game, 
  whch I have carefully based on one of the examples I gave 
  above,  magne that the Duchess of Dunstable s engaged 
  n the tellng of a tale that she has based on my noted explot 
  wheren,  due to a msunderstandng of the ancent proverb, 
  I led the cty of Rhodes to Rome.   However,  as shall be 
  seen,  she s enfuzzled of the detals.   To gve a snppet of 
  the story,  then,  as the Duchess mght tell t :  
  Duchess :   “ … I required a view over the city of Rhodes from the
  “  highe ſt vantage point it offered,  and ſo I ordered my   ſedan-chair to be 
  “ carried to the top of the Coloſſus that ſtands aſtride the harbour 
  “ there.”
  Lord
  
  [     14     ]
  Lord Hampton  (nterruptng most rudely,  wth hs mouth 
  full of petts-fours) :  “ But Ducheſs,  at the time of which you 
  “ ſpeak the Coloſſus of Rhodes had been a fallen ruin for fifty years,  ſo 
  “ you could not poſſibly have climbed it.   I ſaw it ſo myſelf a few months 
  “ previouſly.”   
   
  As he so says,  he pushes a soveregn toward her.
  What s the Duchess to do ?   She s n a quandary.   For 
  the sake of her honour she must contnue but that needs an 
  nvestment of one con.   Shall she make that nvestment ? 
  She shall !
  Duchess :  “ My dear Lord Hampton,  I know not the ſtate of 
  “ your eyes when you failed to ſee the Coloſſus of Rhodes,  but I 
  “ ſuſpect that they were befuddled by the ſtrong wine of that place, 
  “ or poſſibly turned by one of the women of low repute and low-
  “ cut dreſſes who frequent the area of the harbour.”  
   
  Here she places a second soveregn atop hs,  and pushes 
  them back to hm.
  Nota bene,  the Duchess could easly have clamed Lord 
  Hampton’s soveregn for her own by sayng that of course 
  she had only meant the rubble of the Colossus,  and con-
  tnued—but such an early retreat s not for her,  nor for any 
  who would narrate extraordnary adventures,  for rubble 
  has no place n a grand tale such as ths.
   
  But my Lord Hampton has felt hs prde stung by the 
  Duchess’s sprted rposte !   Wll he stand for such dengra-
  ton ?   He wll not !   Wth a floursh he swallows hs cake, 
  adds another con to the stake,  returns t to the Duchess 
  and rejons thus :  
  Lord Hampton :  “ Since our moſt noted hiſtorians have deſcribed
  “ the fall of the Coloſſus ſome years before your noble birth,  milady, 
  “ if we are to believe the age you claim,  might I ſuggeſt that you had 
  “ become
  
  [     15     ]
  “ become ſo enchanted with one of the burly ſailors of Rhodes that in a 
  “ daze you climbed upon his torſo,  thinking it was that of the 
  “ Coloſſus ?”
  Ah !   An accusaton of nfidelty to the memory of her late 
  husband,  the notorous Duke !   All eyes are now on the 
  Duchess.   Pretty blushes tnt her face,  just as the dew 
  of dawn tnts the perfect pnk of a new-opened rose at 
  the break of day (a fine arrangement of words,  f I say so 
  myself).   Hurredly she counts her money—but alas that 
  mornng she has bought herself a new muff and some dog-
  skn gloves,  and her purse s near empty.   Prudence s her 
  mddle name,  lterally as well as figuratvely,  and prudence 
  dctates that she must accept ths nsult,  lest she bankrupt 
  herself.   There are now three cons at stake ;   f she gves 
  way then they are hers.   The temptaton s too strong for 
  one of her gentle sex and she snatches up the stake wth the 
  followng :  
  Duchess :  “ Not at all,  dear Lord Hampton,  but when I refer to
  “ the Coloſſus I mean,  of courſe,  my travelling companion Thomas 
  “ Highfellow,  who as you know is the talleſt man in the world,  and 
  “ who was born in Rhodes where he is known as the New Coloſ-
  “ ſus,  or ‘Col’ to his friends.   He ſtood aſtride the entrance to the 
  “ harbour,  one foot on either ſhore,  and I inſtructed the bearers of 
  “ my ſedan-chair to climb into the palm of his hand,  which he 
  “ raiſed ſo that we could ſee the panorama of the great city.   As I
  “ was ſaying,  we had juſt reached the level of his knee when——”
  Baron Edgington  (as he pushes forward a soveregn) : 
  “ But ſurely,  Ducheſs … ”
  At that pont we must leave the Duchess and her troubled 
  tale—whch f she had but stayed on the path of my org-
  nal she would have put asde all objecton and opposton 
  wthout
  
  [     16     ]
  wthout troublng her exquste brow or her largely vacant 
  mnd—and return to our purpose of descrbng the rules of 
  the game.   Ths s tedous work,  and not the stuff for whch 
  the noble-born bran was made.   Rules be d——ned !   I am n 
  the sprt for a dgresson.
  ON BEING NOBLE.
  I 
  UNDERSTAND that there wll be many among the 
  readers of ths game who have not been blessed wth the 
  good fortune that smled upon myself at my brth.   Indeed, 
  n ths age of the prntng press n whch even the lowlest-
  born may be taught to read and wrte a lttle,  t s possble 
  that ths book has fallen nto the hands of some n whose 
  blood the sgns of greatness do not flow,  whose mnds and 
  souls lack the clarty and sure-headedness that comes only 
  after generatons of the finest breedng and tutelage——to 
  wt,  n short,  commoners.   Such people are not to be de-
  spsed but pted,  and t s for them that the secton s n-
  tended,  as I descrbe the rudments of what a man of lowly 
  brth requres to attan the stature of a perfect specmen of 
  the noble order such as myself.
    
  Noblemen conform to a template lad out by the Al-
  mghty and first descrbed by Baldesar Castglone n hs 
  work The Book of the Courter.   Hs words hold true to-
  day,  despte the fact that——due to a msfortune of brth—he 
  was Italan.   I shall take the lberty of quotng that august 
  gentleman wthout askng hs permsson,  snce he has 
  been dead for ngh on two hundred years.   It s true that n 
  the past I have played chess wth Pythagoras (I won),  Ju-
  lus Caesar (I lost) and Cleopatra (game abandoned),  all 
  several centures after ther respectve deaths,  but that was 
  wth the ad of an Indan mystc whom I subsequently con-
  verted to the Protestant fath,  whereupon he became un-
  able
  
  [     17     ]
  able to perform any of hs pagan rtuals——but once agan I 
  have meandered from my proper course.
   
  Castglone wrote——n the form of a most amusng 
  conversaton between a prnce and hs companons——
   
  “ I would wsh our courter to be well bult,  wth finely
  “ proportoned members,  and I would have hm demon-
  “ strate strength and lghtness and suppleness and be good 
  “ at all the physcal exercses befittng a warror.   Here,  I
  “ beleve,  hs first duty s to know how to handle expertly 
  “ any knd of weapon,  ether on foot or mounted,  to un-
  “ derstand all ther finer ponts,  and to be especally well
  “ nformed about all those weapons commonly used 
  “ among gentlemen.   For apart from ther use n war,  when
  “ perhaps the finer ponts may be neglected,  often dffer-
  “ ences arse between one gentleman and another and lead
  “ to duels,  and very often the weapons used are those that
  “ come mmedately to hand.
   
  “ I also beleve that t s of the hghest mportance to
  “ know how to wrestle——” 
  ——and here I shall pass over a few lnes,  for they teach us 
  nothng about gentlemen but much about Italans.   He 
  resumes :  
   
  “I wsh our courter to be an accomplshed and versa-
  “ tle horseman and,  as well as havng a knowledge of 
  “ horses and all the matters to do wth rdng,  he should
  “ put every effort and dlgence nto surpassng the rest 
  “ just a lttle n everythng,  so that he may always be rec-
  “ ognsed as superor.   And as we read of Alcbades,  that
  “ he surpassed all those people among whom he lved,  and
  “ each tme n regard to what they clamed to be best at,  so
  “ ths courter of ours should outstrp all others,  and n re-
  “ gard to the thngs they know well. . . .
   
  “ So I would lke the courter sometmes to descend to
  “ calmer and more restful games,  and to escape envy and
  “ enter pleasantly nto the company of all the others by do-
  “ ng
  
  [     18     ]
  The Baron diſplays his underſtanding of horſemanſhip,  dancing 
  and making polite converſation at the tea-table (page 19).
  
  [     19     ]
  “ ng everythng they do ;   although he should never fal to
  “ behave n a commendable manner and should rule all hs
  “ actons wth that good judgement whch wll not allow
  “ hm to take part n any foolshness.   Let hm laugh,  jest, 
  “ banter,  romp and dance,  though n a fashon that always
  “ reflects good sense and dscreton,  and let hm say and
  “ do everythng wth grace.”
   
  To ths I would add :  that the nobleman s the hghest of 
  God’s creatons,  brought to a peak of excellence through 
  centures of good breedng,  educaton,  culture and det ; 
  and he should never forget that.   The arstocracy of France 
  forgot t recently and n result found themselves havng a 
  short audence wth a certan Madame Gullotne——a fate 
  from whch I was able to rescue many,  through a number 
  of dsguses,  a Portuguese-Englsh phrasebook and a herd 
  of hollow cows——but once more I am devatng and I shall 
  return to my subject forthwth,  except to say that I shall be 
  happy to recount my recent experences n France for the 
  benefit of any nobleman who would do me the honour of 
  nvtng me to dnner.
   
  The nobleman sets an example to the rest of human-
  ty.   He must be at all tmes cvl and courteous,  even to 
  hs socal nferors,  foregners and the better sort of serv-
  ant.   Hs behavour s the touchstone of all cvlsaton,  for 
  wthout noblty there would be no patronage of the sc-
  ences,  the arts,  lterature or musc ;   and only common arts 
  lke theatre,  country dancng,  poltcs and the mercantle 
  trades would reman.
   
  Naturally no nobleman has any truck wth magc,  on the 
  entrely reasonable grounds that t does not exst.   Scence, 
  logc,  phlosophy and enlghtenment all demonstrate that 
  t cannot work——a vew I ascrbe to fully,  although I am 
  at a loss to explan why,  after argung wth some gypses n 
  Roumana,  I spent a week n the belef that I was a duck.
   
  Although you,  my reader,  may not be n any wht lke 
  the
  
  [     20     ]
  the paragons of humanty I have delned above,  n order to 
  play my game you must pretend to be nobly born and,  n 
  tellng the stores of the great adventures you are clamng 
  to have made,  you should portray yourself and your ac-
  tons as noble n thought and deed.   You may find the expe-
  rence dsturbng to your low-born mnd,  but I hope most 
  earnestly that t may serve as an nterestng lesson,  and that 
  t may teach the most doltsh amongst my readers some de-
  cent manners.
   
  Naturally any nobleman worth hs salt wll be accompa-
  ned on hs travels and adventures by servants and travel-
  lng companons.   As befits ths,  there wll follow n the 
  next secton a dscourse on the nature of companons,  dur-
  ng whch another opportunty shall be taken to be gratu-
  tously rude about the French.   
  COMPANIONS.
  A
  S HE wends hs way through lfe’s travals,  a noble-
  man must perforce be accompaned by many compan-
  ons,  who wll assst hm,  support hm,  keep hm company 
  and enlven hs sprts wth ther wt and learnng.   Com-
  panons are men of rare abltes,  some so rare that they 
  are postvely unque.   I well remember my dear frend 
  Octavus who aded me so ably n the capture of the entre 
  Turksh fleet at Ankara by means of hs prodgous breath, 
  whereby he blew all the shps from ther moorngs and 
  down the coast,  where they became entrapped n a fence of 
  fishng-nets whch I had stretched across the sea.   Or there 
  was Wolfgang,  whose great skll as an artst aded me n 
  scarng the French fleet nto full retreat by pantng a most 
  realstc facsmle of a thousand frgates of the Royal Navy, 
  usng as hs canvas the Whte Clffs of Dover . . . but that s 
  another story,  and shall be told another tme.
  Companons
  
  [     21     ]
   
  Companons are,  n short,  the men and women who 
  may help you n your adventures.   Thus should your nar-
  ratve requre a person of prodgous abltes to help you 
  from a partcular escapade,  you may ntroduce one such as 
  you wsh.   But take care not to use the servces of more than 
  one such companon n each story,  for so to do would be 
  consdered greedy.   
   
  (It need not be sad that companons are not servants.   A 
  nobleman has servants as a French dog has fleas,  and f they 
  be French servants,  they wll serve the nobleman n much 
  the same office as the flea serves the dog :  vz.   a constant 
  source of rrtaton and nusance.   I remember one French 
  manservant who was wth me durng my campagnng on 
  the Russan front ;   he drank lustly,  swore abomnably, 
  scorched my shrts,  knew not a handkerchef from a hot-
  ar balloon,  and at length revealed hmself to be a woman, 
  a fish-seller’s wfe from Calas,  and mghtly n love wth 
  me.   Ths would have been the source of much embar-
  rassment to us both,  had he not been convenently hanged 
  for treason.   I wll not deny that t was I who planted on 
  hs person the map of the secret tunnel under the Englsh 
  Channel,  whch I had acqured by——ah,  but once more I 
  have strayed off the path of my story.
   
  (Whch remnds me n tmely fashon that ths chap-
  ter tself s naught but an extended dgresson,  and thus 
  I should——f only to placate my outraged edtor,  whose 
  cheeks are so flushed wth red anger——lke rosy-bottomed 
  Dawn after she has been spanked by her father the Sun for 
  dallyng too long wth her lover——who I must confess was 
  myself—and not attendng to her busness of breakng the 
  day for two and a half weeks——my edtor,  I say,  whose eyes 
  flash wth rage and har stands on end n resemblance of the 
  gant hedgehog I once defeated n Scotland by turnng t 
  nsde out,  thus stabbng t to death on ts own spnes—my 
  edtor I fear shall de of an apoplexy unless I end ths d-
  gresson,
  
  [     22     ]
  gresson,  close these brackets and return to the subject of 
  Objectons,  Correctons and Wagers forthwth.   Frankly, 
  I find ths busness of rules more than a lttle tedous,  par-
  tcularly now that ths bottle of tokay s finshed.   Yes,  that 
  was a hnt,  whch I observe he has not taken What ?   Oh, 
  closng the brackets.   Very well.) 
  OBJECTIONS,  CORRECTIONS 
  AND WAGERS,  continued.
  A
  S ALL those of truly noble blood are aware,  there are 
  a handful of wagers and objectons that should never 
  be made.   Prncpally,  n the round of nsults,  no nobleman 
  would ever nsult another’s breedng and pedgree,  or hs 
  veracty.   In plan terms,  you may not drectly call another 
  player a lar (although you may safely queston hs accu-
  racy,  nform hm of new dscoveres or remnd hm of facts 
  he may have forgot),  cast doubt hs clam to noble rank,  or 
  nsult hs mother.   Indeed I le :  you may do any of these 
  thngs,  but so to do s proof of your utter caddshness,  and 
  the person you have nsulted s at lberty to challenge you 
  at once to a duel.   I shall expand on the subject of duel-
  lng shortly,  a topc on whch I am partcularly well versed 
  snce the day n  Köngsberg when I nsulted the Kng’s 12th 
  Hussars at the moment that very regment was paradng 
  outsde my open wndow,  and I was forced to fight a duel 
  wth every solder of them,  at the same tme.   I confess I 
  am lookng forward to the chapter on duels wth no lttle 
  relsh,  but lke an errant schoolboy I must finsh my bread-
  and-cheese before I may have my plum.   Onwards !   There 
  s not far to go.
   
  It may seem passng strange that f the wagerer loses hs 
  bet then he recovers hs stake,  or f he wns then hs stake 
  s lost.   Ths s so,  but when the wagerer makes hs clam, 
  he
  
  [     23     ]
  he s n truth sayng,  “ Ha,  my fine fellow,  here s a pretty
  “ td-bt that I wager you cannot make a part of your story,” 
  and f t s pushed back to hm then ndeed he has won the 
  wager and doubled hs stake.   
   
  It s therefore clear that,  snce money s the way that the 
  game s won or lost,  and makng wagers s the only way 
  that the money on the table may be moved between players, 
  a wagerer should essay to make wagers that he can wn—
  that s to say,  whch the story-teller cannot buld nto hs 
  tale,  and must turn away.   Meanstwhle a great story-teller 
  wll construct hs tale so that t nvtes the greatest poss-
  ble number of wagers,  whch the teller has wth great cun-
  nng already antcpated,  and thus can clam each wagerer’s 
  stake.   Wthn these two stratagems les the central skll of 
  my game ;   that s to say,  one part of the skll of my game, 
  the other parts to be explaned n further chapters.   Duller 
  readers need have no fear :  I shall take pans to pont out 
  these tactcs whenever one occurs,  that they may have the 
  satsfacton of knowng wheren these ponts le,  f not the 
  wt to use them n the game.
  DUELLING.
  I 
  AM ADVISED that t s the fashon to name ths part of 
  the rules the ‘Combat System’.   That s an ugly phrase 
  whch stumbles off the tongue,  and sounds lke a Prussan 
  manual on methods of elementary sabre-play.   I dsdan t. 
  Should ts coner take excepton to my contempt for hm 
  and hs phrase,  let hm challenge me and we wll see f he 
  knows aught of real systems of combat,  whle I reduce hs 
  brtches to lace.
   
  As I have observed earler n ths volume,  f n the mat-
  ter of an objecton or a wager a player should nsult anoth-
  er’s veracty,  ttle or pedgree,  then the njured party has 
  the
  
  [     24     ]
  the rght——nay,  the oblgaton——to challenge hs nsulter 
  to a duel.   Such a tral by combat may also come about  f 
  durng the course of a wager one party finds hs purse ex-
  hausted but does not have the grace or good sense to wth-
  draw,  n whch case he may demand that the other stand 
  down hs clam,  or face hm on the field of honour.
   
  The callng of a duel wll cause an unfortunate n-
  terrupton n the flow of the game’s stores,  but so be t : 
  where the honour of a nobleman s concerned,  everythng 
  else must stand asde whle he defends hmself.   Fghtng 
  over matters of honour s a dangerous busness whch may 
  brng poverty,  njury,  death or——a worse horror——rd-
  cule to the partcpants,  but t s as necessary as beefsteak 
  to an Englshman,  gold to a Swss,  or avodng baths to a 
  Frenchman.
   
  The system for fightng a duel s smplcty tself.   Once 
  the njured party has ssued the challenge,  the two duel-
  lsts must choose frends or companons to be ther sec-
  onds,  agree on a weapon——rapers are tradtonal and 
  come easly to hand at most partes or places where the 
  genteel and well-educated gather——and then go outsde to 
  a convenent courtyard,  colonnade or garden,  where they 
  fight.   The duel need only progress untl first blood,  as ths 
  s naught but a frendly dsagreement,  but I have seen my 
  game gve rse to duels that were fought to ncapactaton, 
  dsmemberment or death over such matters as a carelessly 
  splt nfintve.
   
  As the art of duellng s so wdespread across Europe 
  and the other cvlsed areas of the globes,  and so well 
  known to all people of good breedng,  I need not descrbe 
  t here——Ah,  my edtor remnds me agan that some copes 
  of ths game wll nevtably find ther way to the unwashed 
  hands and uneducated eyes of the lower orders as well as 
  the more properly born,  so I must perforce descrbe t 
  after all.   Anyone wth a heredtary ttle or who has ever 
  served
  
  [     25     ]
  served as an officer n one of the better armes of the world 
  (Russan, Prussan,  Englsh,  Spansh,  Italan,  or for that 
  matter Cathayan,  Ethopan,  Persan—ndeed,  now that I 
  thnk of t,  all but the Turks,  Poles and Irsh) should pass 
  to the next secton.   The rest of you,  read on.
   
  The art of duellng s one of great refinement,  and s con-
  veyed equally by good teachng,  fine upbrngng,  the prop-
  er blood,  and the wllngness to spll some of t.   There are 
  any number of textbooks on the subject,  whch I advse a 
  novce to purchase and,  f you are serous about your stud-
  es,  to read.   The acquston of a tutor s necessary for the 
  perfecton of the art——I recommend employng a German 
  duellng-master for brutalty,  a Spanard for flar or,  for 
  matches whch may last up to five days and be ether raned 
  off or end n a draw,  an Englshman.   You should also set 
  asde three,  perhaps four years for study,  and a decade for 
  practce.
   
  Naturally the procedure of duellng s fraught wth 
  danger and dfficulty.   A number of unenlghtened states 
  have declared ths tradtonal bloodsport llegal,  so the 
  partcpants run the rsk of nterrupton by members of the 
  lower orders brandshng truncheons and warrants,  whch 
  s enough to put even the finest duellst off hs stroke.   I 
  have found few remedes to ths,  save the usual methods 
  of duellng n a secluded spot,  wnnng as quckly as pos-
  sble,  and keepng a hot-ar balloon tethered nearby n case 
  a swft ext s requred.   The more adventurous may wsh 
  to try duellng wthn a hot-ar balloon but I do not rec-
  ommend t :  t s hot-ar that got you nto ths stuaton, 
  depend on t not to get you out.
   
  I was plannng to dgress at ths pont on the matter of 
  seconds,  the proper choosng thereof,  and how best to find 
  one at two o’clock of the mornng n Prague——a problem 
  that has bedevlled me snce my sxth brthday.   Despte the 
  lack of scholarshp on ths subject,  and the undoubted ben-
  efit
  
  [     26     ]
  efit that such a secton would add to ths book,  I have been 
  persuaded——under my strongest protest,  I must add——to 
  omt t by the same bleary-eyed edtor who not three para-
  graphs ago convnced me that such a thng should be n-
  cluded.   Hs wts,  I fear,  are addled by cheap gn and the 
  profits from hs last tawdry publcaton.   
   
  Nevertheless t s my contenton that my publc would 
  wsh to see such a book,  embellshed wth several anec-
  dotes and stores of my duellng experences and vctores, 
  and further llustrated by my frends Masters Crukshank 
  and Dore.   If you agree,  gentle reader,  then I humbly re-
  quest that you wrte to the publsher,  demandng to see ths 
  new work.   Its publcaton would be assured f you would 
  be good enough to subscrbe to t :  a mere matter of three 
  guneas,  whch should be enclosed——take care to wrap 
  them well and send them va a trusted messenger——wth 
  your letter.
  DUELLING FOR COWARDS.
  I
  F YOU are weak of blood,  soft of flesh or lled of the 
  lver,  or——by way of furnshng you wth a convenent 
  excuse——you are n a hurry to finsh the game,  or there are 
  lades present who would be shocked at the sght of blood, 
  or you are unable to retan the rôle you are playng at the 
  thought of noble combat,  and find yourself reduced to a 
  common peasant once more,  or f you are Welsh ;   f any of 
  these thngs be true then you may avod the physcal com-
  bat of a duel.   Instead,  just as you are playng at beng a 
  nobleman n my game,  you may play at fightng a duel wth 
  a set of rules I have devs’d for that very purpose.
   
  I say ‘devs’d’.   In fact I was taught the game by an nhab-
  tant of the Dog-Star,  whom I encountered a great dstance 
  from hs home,  on the last occason I vsted the Moon.   I 
  understand
  
  [     27     ]
  understand that the game was orgnally taught to these 
  astral cannes by no less a traveller than the Portuguese 
  navgator Vasco da Gama who,  on hs final voyage,  set 
  hs course toward the sland of Ceylon,  mssed by several 
  thousand leagues,  and saled off the edge of the world.   I 
  blame the qualty of Portuguese sea-charts for ths,  though 
  doubtless the Portuguese would blame the compass,  or the 
  wnd,  or the water,  or  Ceylon,  or the shape of the world, 
  or the Moon,  or anythng else that mght absolve ther own 
  slack-handed work.
   
  Da Gama called the rules ‘Bottle—Glass—Throat’ (he 
  was Portuguese,  as I mentoned),  and those of the Dog-
  Star know t as ‘Bone—Stck—Ball’.   I shall call t ‘Stone—
  Knfe—Paper’,  and … I see.   My edtor tells me I have been 
  overtaken by fate,  that the game s already known by a sm-
  lar name to all the world,  and I should strke out the para-
  graph above.   I shall do no such thng ;   I shall let t stand 
  as a treatse on the hstory of the game,  and scholars may 
  depend on my well-known love of the truth f they doubt 
  any part of t.   None the less I admt myself dsgruntled 
  by ths turn of events,  and wll break my narratve here to 
  restore my sprts wth a hearty dnner.
  *  *  *
  I return much refreshed for my nterval,  although I confess 
  I have drunk deep of Lord Bootlebury’s dark port and hs 
  youngest daughter’s darker eyes,  as soft and deep as those 
  of the stag I klled n the Black Forest by stuffing t wth 
  cake——ts flavour,  I must say,  was not mproved by ths 
  method of dspatch——and accordngly I am dstracted and 
  have lost my thread.   No matter.   I wll nstead regale you 
  wth a story of my travels untl the plot returns to me,  or 
  my edtor wakes from the nosy slumber he has embarked 
  on at the far end of the table,  to remnd me where we were.
  I
  
  [     28     ]
  Not the ſtag that the Baron killed with a cake,  but a different ſtag 
  entirely (page 27).
  
  [     29     ]
   
  I recall a tme n the wnter of 17——,  when I was rd-
  ng nto the nteror parts of Russa.   I found travellng on 
  horseback rather unfashonable n wnter ;   therefore I sub-
  mtted,  as I always do,  to the custom of the country,  took a 
  sngle horse-sledge,  and drove brskly towards St Peters-
  burg.   I do not exactly recollect whether t was n Eastland 
  or Jugemanland,  but I remember that n the mdst of a 
  dreary forest,  I sped a terrble wolf makng after me,  wth 
  all the speed of ravenous wnter hunger.   He soon overtook 
  me.   There was no possblty of escape.   Mechancally I 
  lad myself down flat n the sledge,  and let my horse run 
  for our safety.   
   
  What I wshed,  but hardly hope or expected,  happened 
  mmedately after.   The wolf dd not mnd me n the least, 
  but took a leap over me,  and fallng furously on the horse, 
  began nstantly to tear and devour the hnd part of the poor 
  anmal,  whch ran the faster for hs pan and terror.   Thus 
  unnotced and safe myself,  I lfted my head slyly up,  and 
  wth horror I beheld that the wolf had ate hs way nto the 
  horse’s body ;   t was not long before he had farly forced 
  hmself nto t,  when I took my advantage,  and fell upon 
  hm wth the but-end of my whp.   
   
  Ths unexpected attack n hs rear frghtened hm so 
  much,  that he leaped forward wth all hs mght ;   the 
  horse’s carcass dropped on the ground ;   but n hs place 
  the wolf was n the harness,  and I on my part whppng hm 
  contnually,  we both arrved n full career safe to St Peters-
  burg,  contrary to our respectve expectatons,  and very 
  much to the astonshment of——
   
   I recall t now ;   we were dscussng duellng.   Rather,  I 
  was dscussng,  you were learnng,  and my edtor was hog-
  gng the kerren wasser and makng loud nterruptons.   He 
  s a most rrtatng fellow,  but havng now waked he has 
  left for the tavern on the corner,  and I may contnue wth-
  out hs assstance.
  Stone-
  
  [     30     ]
   
  ‘Stone—Knfe—Paper’ s the game.   On a count of three, 
  one should form one’s hand nto the shape of a stone,  a 
  blade,  or a pece of paper ;   the rule beng that a knfe beats 
  paper (t cuts t) ;   paper beats a stone (t wraps t) ;   and 
  a knfe beats a stone (t whets t … No,  I have t wrong. 
  Ask your manservant how the d——ned game plays).   The 
  fant-hearted faux-duellsts must play three hands of t, 
  dscountng draws,  and whosoever wns two or more s de-
  clared the vctor.   I wll waste no further words on ths sub-
  ject,  destned as t s only for csses and or he who s afrad 
  of the sght of a lttle blood,  or of addng another death or 
  two to hs conscence.   Real noblemen have no such qualms, 
  partcularly f they are dealng wth peasants or foregners. 
  Play your rôle properly or not at all,  say I.
  THE RESULT OF A DUEL.
  T
  HE RESULTS of a duel can be deadly,  even f you 
  lack the eſprit to essay t n the proper fashon.   As-
  sumng that both partes are stll alve at ts end,  the upshot 
  of a duel s as follows :  the loser must make over hs entre 
  purse to the vctor,  and must retre from the game.   If one 
  of the two partes has lost hs lfe n the conflct,  then hs 
  second should carry out these nstructons.   However,  hs 
  bounty——f such he has——must reman untouched untl 
  the end of the game.
   
  A final word on duellng :  t s consdered unsportng to 
  provoke a duel or ssue a challenge once all the stores are 
  finshed and the bounty s beng dspensed and receved. 
  I remember one memorable game I played wth a crew of 
  swarthy prates,  whle they and I were trapped nsde the 
  belly of a mghty sea-beast whch had regrettably swal-
  lowed every man of us——a not unusual happenng,  I learn 
  from my conversatons wth martme adventurers,  but pe-
  cular
  
  [     31     ]
  cular n ths nstance n that I had been clmbng the Mat-
  terhorn at the tme of my ngeston.
   
  We had reached the end of the game and,  as was to be 
  expected,  the cons were plng nto my bounty,  when the 
  prate captan,  angered at the falure of hs tale of herrng-
  do,  drew hs cutlass and wth a mghty oath swung t at my 
  head.   I stepped away and the blade slced through the great 
  beast’s spleen,  on whch I had been seated,  whch gushed 
  forth such quanttes of ble that——ah,  but my edtor,  who 
  has just returned from the tavern wth the smell of the tap 
  on hs breath and the rouge of the tap-grl on hs lps,  re-
  mnds me that my deadlne s close,  and my remanng 
  pages are runnng short,  and I must cease my dgresson 
  forthwth.   As before,  f any of my readers should wsh to 
  hear the remander of the story,  I wll be happy to recount 
  t over dnner at ther club and ther expense.
   
  Now,  perforce,  I must move to explan how a story s 
  brought to a concluson and the manner that a game s won, 
  n whch——fear not,  gentle reader,  I have not forgot——I 
  shall explan what on earth a ‘bounty’ s.
  FINISHING A STORY.
  I
  N MY experence a good tale should last no more than 
  five mnutes ;  for beyond that the lsteners begn to grow 
  bored and lstless and talk among themselves and throw 
  bread rolls and play at dce or cards and call for muscans 
  and dance upon the table and seduce the hostess and ds-
  trbute sedtous or revolutonary lterature and plot land-
  wars n Asa,  and other such dstractons as mght put even 
  the finest raconteur off hs strde——partcularly f he has 
  desgns on the hostess hmself.
   
  The story-teller should therefore brng hs tale to ts 
  natural concluson at ts proper length,  and n a way that 
  brngs
  
  [     32     ]
  brngs the greatest enjoyment and astonshment to hs 
  lsteners.   At ths pont the tale s done,  and the aud-
  ence should respond wth a hearty “ Huzzah !” and excla-
  matons of “ By my oath,  Baron,  that is the moſt remarkable 
  “ ſtory I have ever heard,  and I drink to it.   Bring more wine! 
  “ Open a cask of the ’77 !” whch s always pleasng.   
   
  However,  t has not escaped the eye of a solder such as 
  I that there are several story-tellers who ether cannot tell 
  when ther story has finshed,  and must perforce prattle on 
  untl Doomsday or untl the wne s finshed ;   or who are so 
  ll-sklled n the art of racontage that nether they nor ther 
  audence can tell when ther tale s done.   I have appled my 
  mltary mnd to both these problems,  and the solutons 
  are gven below.
   
  If a story-teller finshes hs tale and there s none to cry 
  “ Huzzah !”,  for they are all asleep or otherwse occuped, 
  then he should sgnfy to the company that an end has been 
  reached by standng and loudly proclamng :  “ That is my
  “ ſtory,  true in every word,  and if any man doubts it I’ll make him
  “ drink a barrel of brandy in a ſingle ſwallow.” Ths serves as a 
  sgnal to the company,  by ts volume f not by ts words, 
  that they should rouse themselves from the torpor whch 
  a dull tale nvokes,  and muster a few token “ Huzzah !”s to 
  tell the story-teller that they have understood hs tale s at 
  an end.   
   
  A word of a tactc for those wthout the wt to dscern 
  t for themselves :  f you find a problem n brngng your 
  narratve to a fittng close,  nstead recountng on and on 
  because you know not how to brng the tale to a concluson, 
  then I have the trck for you.   When the noble personage on 
  your left gves you the subject of your tale,  you should say, 
  “ Ah !”,  reach for your glass and take a long swallow.   In the 
  few seconds ths wll afford,  you can decde how t s that 
  your story wll conclude.   Ths gves your narratve path 
  a destnaton,  wthout whch t may ramble amlessly and 
  endlessly
  
  [     33     ]
  endlessly,  and the rest s smplcty.   A good endng trumps 
  a good begnnng,  for people remember t wth greater 
  strength of emoton :  one may start badly and recover to 
  wn,  but to start well and falter s to lose the race.
  PASSING THE STORY.
  W
  HETHER A tale ends well or ll,  once the usual 
  toasts have been drunk (to the story,  the story-
  teller,  the host,  the monarch,  the most attractve woman 
  present,  the second most attractve woman present,  the 
  most attractve woman n the story,  absent frends,  &c.) 
  the one who has just finshed hs narraton must turn to the 
  person sttng at hs rght hand and,  n an nterested tone 
  (for to do otherwse could be taken as an nsult and lead to 
  a regrettable duel,  or a mld-mannered bun-fight,  or any 
  other manner of unnecessary dstracton from the busness 
  at hand),  say,  “ So,  Baron,  tell us the ſtory of … ” and here,  as 
  at the start of the game,  descrbe n bref synopss a sutable 
  adventure,  whether from one of my own escapades,  or from 
  the lst n the appendx of ths work,  or from hs own expe-
  rences or magnngs.   The person thus addressed should 
  pck up the tale and proceed as descrbed above,  wth the 
  other players preparng wagers,  nterruptons,  duels and 
  so forth to throw hm off the strde of hs narraton.   
   
  If,  however,  a story-teller should have become so 
  wrapped up n hs tale that he has faled to see the com-
  pany has lost nterest and has commenced cock-fightng or 
  badger-batng nstead,  then any of the company may nter-
  rupt at a sutable juncture wth the words,  “ That reminds me 
  “ of the ſtory I have heard told of Baron N—— M——” (namng 
  the player sttng to the rght of the present story-teller) 
  “ in which he … ” and names an adventure.   Wth that he 
  must put forward one con.   If others of the company agree 
  then
  
  [     34     ]
  then they should add cons of ther own ;   and f fully half 
  the company s n agreement that the mantle of story-teller 
  should pass,  then Baron N—— M—— commences the tale 
  of the new adventure.   If less,  then he may contnue.   In 
  ether case,  the accumulaton s gven to the pot-boy to pay 
  for more wne.
   
  I see thus far I have faled to explan the bounty.   Never 
  fear.   There are stll several pages to go,  and I am certan t 
  shall follow n the next chapter,  or the one after that.
  DETERMINING THE WINNER.
  W
  HEN ALL are done wth ther stores,  there should 
  be a moment of pause.   St back n your char and 
  permt the pot-boy to recharge your glass.   Thnk on the 
  stores you have heard,  and decde n your own mnd whch 
  was the best.   If you are of a scholarly bent you may wsh 
  to debate the matter wth your companons,  makng refer-
  ence to Arstotle’s Ars Poetca and the recent crtcal works 
  of the poet Dryden.   Or f not,  then not.   ’Ts of small 
  mportance.
   
  Whle you are so debatng,  ether wth your soul or 
  wth your fellows,  count up the cons you have left n your 
  purse.   These now become the tokens wth whch each of 
  the company shall decde whose story s the finest,  the most 
  outstandng,  the most memorable,  the most authentc and 
  the most heroc,  showng ts teller n the finest lght.   In 
  common parlance,  you shall each vote for a wnner.
   
  Commencng wth the person who began the game,  and 
  n rotaton and n turn,  each player must take hs purse of 
  cons,  and wth words such as :  “ Gentlemen,  I have never
  “ heard ſuch a ſurpriſing collection of ſtories,  but upon my hon-
  “ our the one told by my dear friend ——” (here he names the 
  nobleman whose anecdote he consders the finest of 
  the
  
  [     35     ]
  the  evenng) “ is the moſt aſtonishing tale I have encountered 
  “ in my life.” If you are Englsh then at ths juncture you may 
  wsh to add “ ’Pon  my ſoul” or “ Wot wot”.   I know not why, 
  but t appears oblgatory.
   
  (My edtor s protestng,  and also Englsh.   My expla-
  naton must perforce pause a moment whle I hush hm by 
  refillng hs glass wth the last of hs father’s whsky.)
   
  Wth these words the player places hs entre purse n 
  front of the fellow he has named.   It must be all of hs cons 
  ;   t does not befit a gentleman to splt hs bets or spread hs 
  favours too wdely.   Nor should the recpent add the cons 
  to hs own purse.   Be not hasty ;   smply leave them where 
  they le.   Ths ple s termed the bounty,  at last.
   
  Once every player has sad hs pece,  cast hs vote and 
  dstrbuted hs bounty (and I must perforce remnd the 
  sluggards,  commoners and plebans among my readers 
  that no true nobleman would even consder the dea of 
  votng for hmself),  then each player should count out 
  the number of cons cast for hm and hs story.   (Sotto voce, 
  naturally ;   there s nothng so unbecomng as a nobleman 
  who cannot count but out loud ;   and f your grasp of nu-
  merology does not extend beyond five then you should 
  mmedately gve up all thoughts of playng ths game and 
  find yourself a pastme more suted to your nature ;   such 
  as turnp-farmng or government.) 
  ENDING THE GAME.
  T
  HE PLAYER wth the greatest bounty s declared to 
  have won the game.   All must gve a loud “ Huzzah !” 
  and more wne s ordered to drnk to the health of the vc-
  tor.   It s accepted as a pont of etquette that the vctor shall 
  pay for ths wne,  and t s also accepted that the money they 
  have accumulated as ther bounty may not be——nay,  n my 
  experence
  
  [     36     ]
  Some players of the Baron’s game may prove thirſtier than others, 
  eſpecially if they have been in recent battle with the Turks (page 32).
  
  [     37     ]
  experence s never——sufficent to cover the cost.   But that 
  s of no matter :  we are noblemen and we overlook such tr-
  fles as far payment,  money,  debts,  &c.   Besdes,  the sweet 
  taste of vctory wll more than wpe out the sour tang of the 
  evenng’s reckonng,  when the nnkeeper brngs t.
   
  Ths concludes the play of the game.
   
  Should the majorty of the company wsh,  and not be so 
  out of pocket or n ts cups that t cannot contnue,  another 
  round of the game may be played.   The vctor of the prev-
  ous round——beng the person who has most recently re-
  charged the company’s glasses——shall commence the play 
  by challengng hs rght-hand man to tell another tale.   
  A FRESH WORD ON TACTICS.
  I
  T SHOULD be observed——ndeed,  t wll already 
  have been so by my more ntellgent and well-bred read-
  ers, of whom I trust there are many——that there are two 
  ways to succeed at my game.   Frstly,  one may play wth 
  ultmate strategy and gule,  n order to releve as many of 
  the company of as much of ther wealth as can be done,  n 
  order to amass the greatest purse.   Secondly,  one may tell 
  the finest story one s able.   Naturally all players should 
  am to tell the finest story,  for that s the only way that they 
  may wn the contest.   
   
  If you play strategcally so that you gan the greatest 
  purse,  then I can assure you that you are practcally cer-
  tan to lose the game ;   partly because your purse must be 
  gven to someone else,  and partly because you wll have 
  aroused such enmty n the rest of the company that none of 
  them wll cast ther vote for you.   Yet by ths tactc you can 
  gve yourself the honour of  determnng who shall wn the 
  game,  and thus gan advantage wth the one whose vctory 
  you have assured.
  Naturally,
  
  [     38     ]
   
  Naturally,  although many noblemen and partcularly 
  ther sons are known to be proflgate wth ther money,  t s 
  poor play to empty your purse before the end of the game, 
  and worse play to spend them all before you have your turn 
  at story-tellng.   Wthout cons n your purse you can not 
  nterrupt a comrade,  rebut nterruptons to your tale,  or 
  cast votes for a wnner.   And  snce t s beneath a nobleman 
  to ether beg or steal,  once you have no funds then the only 
  method to accrue more s to tell a fine story that attracts 
  many nterruptons from your fellows,  and turn those n-
  terruptons asde wth speed of wt and the dexterty of 
  your tongue.   (I feel an urge to dgress about the dexterty 
  of tongues I have known,  but I shall forbear.   Lades may 
  read ths.)
   
  In the final round of the game,  f your company has ad-
  mtted women to the play,  I do not recommend that you 
  vote for your paramour,  or for the member of the company 
  who has taken your fancy.   In my experence t rarely leads 
  to success ;   and your fellows wll notce and make fun of 
  your noble gesture for weeks.
  IN CONCLUSION.
  I
  N THESE pages I have essayed three thngs.   Frstly,  to 
  brng——what s t now,  man ? 
   
  I apologse to you, my reader.   I had thought we had 
  almost run our course,  and was about to gallop for the fin-
  shng post,  but t has been slurred n my ear that I have 
  neglected a secton whch my contract oblges me to wrte. 
  I wll be most glad to have ths game finshed.   Such thngs 
  are not suted to a noble temperament ;   whch admrably 
  explans why so few scrbblers have been elevated to the 
  ranks of noblty.
  BACKGROUND.
  
  [     39     ]
  BACKGROUND.
  I 
  WISH TO explan that ths secton has been mposed on 
  me :  my edtor tells me that such thngs are these days 
  expected from the creator of a game.   For the lfe of me I 
  cannot understand the reason or purpose for enqurng nto 
  my background :  I am a nobleman and a Munchausen and 
  those facts,  whch suffice as my passport across all the bor-
  ders and nto the royal chambers n every country n Eu-
  rope,  should surely be sufficent to——.
   
  Ah.   I am nformed by the mangy-headed fellow that I 
  have mssed the pont.   Naturally I have done no such thng 
  ;   although I may be gulty of a lttle wlful msnterpreta-
  ton of hs meanng.   However,  I suggest that we rettle the 
  secton ‘Hstorcal Settng’ and start agan.
  HISTORICAL SETTING.   
  M
  UCH BETTER.
   It s,  of course,  the eghteenth century ;   for 
  surely there has never been a finer tme to be alve.   More 
  partcularly,  t s the year of our Lord 17——.   The Renas-
  sance s over,  the power of the Church s crumblng,  and 
  Europe s cvlsed at last.   The Turk are n Constantno-
  ple and ndeed all over the place,  the French are makng 
  trouble agan,  Sweden s n declne,  the Russans are nvad-
  ng the Crmea at regular ntervals,  the Kng of England 
  s both German and mad—both fine condtons for rulng 
  that sle—and somewhere across the Atlantc Ocean a few 
  colonsts are begnnng to thnk a lttle too much of ther 
  own mportance.
   
  The wonder of ths age of marvels s wthout ques-
  ton the astonshng flyng-balloon of the brothers Mont-
  golfier,
  
  [     40     ]
  golfier,  whch can carry people and anmals hgh nto the 
  ar n perfect safety,  transportng them over ctes,  rvers, 
  forests and mountans,  and even——t s sad——as hgh as 
  the Moon tself.   That the brothers devz’d ther nventon 
  solely as a way of leavng France has been glossed over n 
  most accounts of ther success.
   
  Speakng of France,  t s troubled greatly by short men 
  wearng tall hats who,  n an effort to brng the noblty down 
  to ther own level,  have chopped off the heads of many of 
  that country’s finest ctzens,  and not only to releve them 
  of the weght of ther enormous wgs.   Ths has led to many 
  escapades for young bloods who wsh to prove themselves 
  by attemptng to rescue the younger and more beaut-
  ful members of French socety from such a fate,  and over 
  whom they nevtably lose ther heads one way or another. 
  It has also led to a regrettable surfet of French arstocracy 
  n the coffee-houses and salons of the other captals of Eu-
  rope.   However,  t s to our great fortune that so many of 
  these refugees were able to brng ther chefs wth them .
   
  Scence,  dscovery and phlosophy are makng great 
  strdes.   The French have created a ratonal system of 
  measurng all thngs,  whch they call the Metrcs.   It wll 
  never catch on.   Now that the Australas have been located, 
  they are beng put to use as a depostory for all the unde-
  srables of Europe.   A young Englsh fellow called Watt 
  has created a gant kettle whch can power a factory——by 
  provdng enough hot tea to keep the workers contented, 
  I thnk——and another named Stephenson s sad to have 
  made one that runs on wheels,  for the purpose of scarng 
  horses and runnng over members of Parlament.   Ths s 
  an enterprse to be applauded.   
   
  Those of the lower orders who beleve that money s an 
  acceptable substtute for noblty have been swft to take 
  advantage of these nnovatons,  and are busy buldng 
  factores and employng women called Jenny to spn cot-
  ton
  
  [     41     ]
  ton for them.   Some fool n Norfolk has entrely spoled 
  the wnter’s huntng by ploughng up the fallow fields and 
  growng turnps on them.   Much of London’s trade seems 
  centred on peces of paper bearng promses,  mostly to do 
  wth a great bubble whch appeared n the South Seas some 
  years ago.   I confess I understand none of ths,  but t ap-
  pears that Brtan may be developng an empre of some 
  knd——based upon,  of all thngs,  trade,  money and root 
  vegetables.   May G–d help us all.
  IN CONCLUSION.
  I
  N THESE pages I have essayed three thngs.   Frst,  to 
  brng a lttle of the exctement of my lfe nto the lves of 
  others,  so that they may the better apprecate the nature of 
  my astonshng adventures.   Second,  to educate the lower 
  orders n the matter of how ther betters lve,  behave and 
  thnk,  n my attempt to heghten ther understandng of 
  exactly why t s that we are superor to them,  and thus to 
  avod,  I hope,  any further outbreaks of the unpleasant do-
  ngs that have been gong on n France.   
   
  And thrd,  n gvng you an apprecaton of myself and 
  my adventures I hope that I have rekndled that spark of 
  adventurousness and gallantry n the soul of man——and 
  the occasonal rare woman ;   t beng my opnon that too 
  much adventurousness n a woman s often a bad thng——
  dampened of late by lumpen pursuts such as theatre-go-
  ng,  novel-readng and the earnng of money.   Cease usng 
  the fruts of the magnatons of others ;   nstead use the v-
  sons of great achevements that my game may place n your 
  mouth——such achevements performed moreover not for 
  fame or gan but solely for the enjoyment of the undertak-
  ng,  whether t succeed or fal——to spur yourself onwards 
  to great thoughts,  great deeds and great actons.
  Every
  
  [     42     ]
   
   Every word I have ever spoken s completely true (bar-
  rng three,  and they were sad to Turks) and I am by no 
  means an exceptonal man,  I have merely lved n excep-
  tonal tmes.   Any man of noble sprt,  lvng n tmes such 
  as these,  could have acheved the same.   My deeds are only 
  known so wdely because I have had what some term the 
  ll-grace to recount them over a drnk or two.   And I say 
  that you too,  gentle reader,  have the capacty wthn you to 
  experence adventures as great as my own,  f only you have 
  the ambton to rase your sghts hgh enough.   
   
  One man,  t s sad,  may change the world.   I deny that 
  I ever dd so——I may have saved t once or twce,  but that 
  s not the same thng——but the ablty s wthn you to per-
  form that,  or any other feat ;   save one.   It s not,  I regret to 
  tell you,  wthn your capacty to make love to the Empress 
  of Russa,  for the reason that her honour s under my pro-
  tecton and srrah,  f I catch you near her,  I wll gve you 
  such a drubbng as wll so bruse your legs and your a——e 
  that you wll be ncapable of ether standng up or sttng 
  down,  and wll therefore be forced to spend a month spn-
  nng n the ar lke a top,  a foot above the ground.   Con-
  sder that a warnng.
   
  Mendace veritas !
   
  Baron Munchauſen,  by his hand,  
   
  London,  this year of Our Lord 17––
  APPENDIX
  
  [     43     ]
  APPENDIX ONE.
   
  Tell us,  Baron,  the ſtory of . . . 
  How you dscovered the source of the Nle by accdent.
  How you survved the attack of a lon and a crocodle at 
  the same tme.
  How your huntng-dog Beauty caught seven hares at 
  once.
  How you were able to reach the moon usng only twenty 
  feet of rope——and how you returned.
  How you survved beng swallowed by a whale ;   and what 
  you encountered nsde ts mghty belly.
  The tme that your fur coat attacked you on the road to Co-
  logne.
  How you escaped from the dungeons of the Grand Segnor 
  of Turkey,  wth the help of a Dutch cheese.
  Your encounter wth a floatng sland n the Sargasso Sea.
  How your horse came to be hangng from a church steeple, 
  and how you freed t.
  How you dscovered the Island of Cheese,  and how you 
  escaped from ts nhabtants.
  How you crcumnavgated the world wthout leavng your 
  house.
  How you cured the Empress of France’s hccoughs from 
  the other sde of the Englsh Channel.
  Your dscovery of the efficacy of swallowng frogs as a cure 
  for leprosy.
  How you accdentally started the Amercas’ war of nde-
  pendence.
  How you convnced the Kng of Sardna to become your 
  footservant.
  The occason on whch you duelled all the members of a 
  regment of Prussan hussars smultaneously.
  How
  
  [     44     ]
  The Baron ſurvives the attack of a lion and a crocodile at the ſame 
  time (page 43).
  
  [     45     ]
  How t was that you met Helen of Troy.
  How you saved the lfe of a man who had ded fifty years 
  ago.
  How you survved your fall from the Moon to the earth.
  How t was that you became betrothed to the Bshop of 
  Bath and Wells.
  The tme you ate the Kng of Norway’s horse n most cur-
  ous crcumstances.
  Your dscovery of the lost cty of Atlants,  and why t sank 
  ten mnutes afterwards.
  How,  due to a meal of oatcakes,  you destroyed the cty of 
  Tobruk.
  How t was you were able to pass as a natve among the lt-
  tle people of Lllput.
  The tme your post-horn played for half an hour wth no-
  body blowng t.
  Why,  durng the sege of Gbraltar,  you nvented the con-
  tnuous-acton loom.
  How you recognsed a sheep as the long-lost second son of 
  the Earl of Bath.
  Your prodgous marksmanshp,  and how t saved last 
  year’s champagne vntage from runaton.
  How you started the French Revoluton for a bet,  and who 
  won.
  Your argument wth the noted sorcerer Doctor Dee,  and 
  how you finally rd yourself of the asses’ ears he gave you.
  How you earned the hatred of every freemason n Poland.
  Why,  durng thunderstorms,  you nsst on rdng stark na-
  ked.
  How you forced the surrender of the Turksh armes at 
  Constantnople wth a chcken.
  Why you have drunk every bottle of cognac bottled n the 
  year 17—— n the world.
  Why t s that n France you are known as the Ffth Mus-
  keteer.
  How
  
  [     46     ]
  How a portrat of Henry VIII saved you from beng attack 
  ed by lons.
  The sad occason of your funeral,  and how t s that you are 
  sttng here now.
  Why you showed the Empress of Sweden’s bloomers to the 
  town of Dusseldorf.
  How you bear a strkng resemblance to the Sphnx of the 
  Egyptan desert.
  How you used a cannon to spy out the Turksh lnes at the 
  sege of Constantnople.
  How t s that your portrat has been hangng n the water-
  closet at the Palace of Versalles for the past 200 years.
  How you came to be burnt at the stake for wtchcraft n 
  Barcelona,  and how you survved.
  How t was,  the nght you passed n Florence last year,  that 
  the har of every ctzen over the age of 20 turned blue.
  Your huntng trp that led to the downfall of the Mng dy-
  nasty n Chna.
  How you succeeded n cross-breedng elephants and pea-
  cocks——and why.
  Your dscovery of the effects of lon-dung as a cure for 
  rheumatsm.
  How the table-manners of the nhabtants of the Sun aded 
  you n the mappng of Australa.
  How you acqured one of the Moon-People as your man-
  servant.
  How you proved to the Royal Socety that the world s not 
  round.
  The mstake wth your laundry whch saved the court of 
  France from drownng.
  The Venetan masqued ball where no man but every woman 
  recognsed you.
  How your choce of cummerbund decded the Battle of 
  Rhodes.
  How you were prncpal n the safe escape of Bonny Prnce 
  Charle
  
  [     47     ]
  Charle.
  How and why t was that you once had to fight a duel wth 
  yourself——to the death.
  The ncdent where you accdentally mpregnated the 
  Pope.
  The banquet n Prussa at whch all the servants were ex-
  ecuted for wtchcraft.
  How you removed the Crown Jewels from the Tower of 
  London.
  Why you refuse to wear scarlet,  eat eggs or rde a horse on 
  a Tuesday.
  The occason n Pars where you became an ape for a week.
  The brdge you bult between Europe and Afrque,  and 
  what happened to t.
  How a bottle of schnapps n Russa saved you from a be-
  headng by the Turksh Sultan.
  Why every blacksmth n London owes you three guneas.
  How the notebooks of Leonardo da Vnc helped you to 
  prevent the assassnaton of our beloved monarch.
  How you rghted the Leanng Tower of Psa.
  Why the keeper of the Royal Botancal Gardens at Kew has 
  classfied your moustache as a herb.
  The pecular results of your havng fallen asleep n a can-
  non.
  Why every fifth chld born n Brussels s named after you.
  Why and how you once swam the entre length of the Dan-
  ube.
  How you survved your descent nto the volcano Vesuvus, 
  and who you met there.
  What happened when the prmtves of the Polynesan s-
  lands offered you as a sacrfice to ther natve gods.
  How,  after a mghty earthquake,  you arranged for Rome 
  to be rebult n a day.
  How you seduced the queen of the Moon,  even though 
  she stands three hundred feet tall.
  The
  
  [     48     ]
  The matter of the dog who spoke French and the tragc hs-
  tory of ts master.
  How you became Kng of Mkolo-Mbeleland.
  How a sprg of pussy-wllow saved your lfe.
  Why you were forced to act all the parts n a producton of 
  Hamlet at Covent Garden——and how you staged the duel 
  scene.
  How t s you ncurred the wrath of the god Vulcan.
  Why you clam to be the husband of Cleopatra.
  How you stopped a chargng herd of elephants from de-
  stroyng Ednburgh.
  The most outrageous wager you ever took.
  How you saved the lfe of the Kng of the Cats.
  What you dd wth the arms of the Venus de Mlo.
  How you located the Garden of Eden,  and what you found 
  there.
  How you captured the phœnx whch you later presented 
  to queen Anne.
  Why the race of pygmy-people from Yolmba-Yp worshp 
  you as ther god.
  What caused the fall of London Brdge,  and how you sur-
  vved t.
  The duel you were forced to fight aganst a swarm of bees.
  Your creaton of a tunnel underneath the Strats of Gbral-
  tar,  and what happened to t.
  Your nvason of Italy wth an army of three hundred t-
  gers.
  How you learned of the true restng-place of Noah’s Ark, 
  and what you found there.
  How you repeated Moses’ trck of partng the Red Sea.
  How you vsted both North and South Poles durng dn-
  ner one evenng.
  How you lfted the ancent curse on the royal famly of 
  Sweden.
  How you learned to speak the language of the elephant.
  How
  
  [     49     ]
  How you and your companons completely empted the 
  treasure-room of the Sultan of Mahmood.
  How your lfe was saved by the tckng of your pocket-
  watch.
  How you caused Prncess Mary of the Netherlands to be 
  marred n a pgsty.
  How you and three rabbts lfted the sege of Gbraltar.
  How t was that you and not Francs Bacon wrote the plays 
  of Wllam Shakespeare.
  How you recovered the treasure of the sunken Spansh Ar-
  mada wthout wettng a har of your head.
  Why,  when you appeared before the court of the Kng of the 
  Low Countres,  dd all present thnk you were a ghost.
  Why,  on your return from the Indes,  your father dd not 
  recognse you.
  How you stole the Empress of France’s damond studs 
  from under her very nose.
  Your encounter wth the Srens of legend,  and how you re-
  sponded to ther seductve songs.
  The huntng trp n Scotland,  on whch you shot twelve 
  grouse,  three lons,  a camel and a sea-serpent.
  How you caused a German servng-mad to be crowned 
  Emperor of Inda.
  The great dscoveres you have lately made concernng tea, 
  and how you made them.
  How you became the first man to clmb Mont Blanc.
  How you became the first man to descend Mont Blanc,  be-
  fore any man had clmbed t.
  How you prevented the Whte Clffs of Dover from turn-
  ng blue.
  How,  on your celebrated crossng of the Sahara desert, 
  you were able to eat your camel one nght and yet rde t the 
  followng day.
  How you captured the entre French fleet wth a leaky row-
  ng-boat.
  How
  
  [     50     ]
  How you deduced that all the monks of Westmnster Ab-
  bey were devl-worshppers and what you dd about t.
  Why members of the Polsh army salute you and address 
  you as General Bock.
  Why you never remove your hat n the company of 
  Greeks.
  How you nvented the natonal dsh of Italy.
  How you detected that the French were dggng a tunnel 
  under the Englsh Channel,  and the remarkable acton you 
  took as a result.
  Why t s that half the fish brought nto Antwerp harbour 
  belong to you.
  How the largest damond n the world came to be n the 
  oyster you presented to the Empress of Russa.
  How you caused the Pope to parade naked through the 
  streets of Venna.
  Why a man n Dubln has a contract statng that he owns 
  your rght leg.
  How your luncheon wth the Duke of Strathcarn started 
  the Industral Revoluton.
  Your encounter wth the Great Whte Whale.
  What you dd to cause the year 1752 to lose the days be-
  tween the thrd and the fourteenth of September.
  Your unusual method of esponage n the recent nvason 
  of Poland.
  Your nvolvement n the Royal Socety’s scheme to extract 
  sunlght from cucumbers.
  How you clamed the planet Neptune for the Brtsh Em-
  pre.
  Whether you have,  as was reported,  located the source of 
  the Amazon,  and f so,  what flavour of sauce t was.
  How you wrote a ten-volume hstory of Iceland n a day, 
  despte never havng been there.
  The bet you made wth the Count of Monte Hall,  that you 
  could outrun a hare over fifty yards,  and how you won t.
  How
  
  [     51     ]
  How you navgated the ancent labyrnth of Mnos,  and 
  what you found at ts centre.
  How you replenshed the empty treasury of Lechtensten 
  n a sngle day.
  Why you were mprsoned n the cell next to the Man n 
  the Iron Mask,  what passed between you,  and how you 
  escaped.
  Your shpwreck and sojourn on a small sland nhabted 
  only by man-eatng savages.
  How you dscovered that your manservant was the Em-
  peror of Prussa,  and what you dd about t.
  How you escaped from the Turks on half a horse.
  How you accdentally executed the Kng of Norway.
  The tme a cat nsulted the honour of your famly,  and how 
  you restored that honour.
  How you saled across the Medterranean wthout a boat.
  How you moved Leeds Castle to Kent.
  How you removed one letter from the alphabet wthout 
  anyone notcng.
  Your encounter wth the ghost-shp the Flyng Dutchman, 
  and how you brought ts cargo to harbour.
  How you melted the swords of the French Army nto 
  ploughshares wthout attractng the attenton of the sol-
  ders carryng them.
  How you lad the ghost of Anne Boleyn.
  How you eradcated the Black Plague from Hamburg n 
  an afternoon.
  Why your moustache never needs to be trmmed.
  How you stopped the erupton of Mount Vesuvus wth 
  only the contents of your saddlebags and the help of your 
  companons.
  Why the apes on the Rock of Gbraltar regard you as the 
  leader of ther pack.
  How you mned for gold n Sant Peter’s Square n Rome.
  How you came to accdentally nvent Morrs dancng.
  How
  
  [     52     ]
  How your dscovery of the Sphnx’s nose saved you from 
  an unpleasant fate.
  How you rescued the race of Houhynyms from ther lfe of 
  slavery under ther cruel masters.
  Why you caused the ancent Battle of Marathon to be re-
  staged n every detal on the outskrts of Boulogne.
  Your smugglng trps to the Sun,  and how t led to your 
  exle from that place.
  How you lost both your legs at the Battle of Utrecht,  and 
  how you recovered them.
  How,  f you are the greatest swordsman n Europe,  the 
  Count of Basle can clam truthfully to be the greatest 
  swordsman n Belgum.
  How you nvented the tomato.
  How you found the Crown Jewels of Sweden hdden nsde 
  a lve cow.
  How you wrote Mozart’s Requem.
  How you succeeded where Canute faled and stopped the 
  tde from advancng.
  How you caused the Englsh flag to be flown over the Pal-
  ace of Versalles n France.
  How you tamed the wld swne of Gloucester.
  How you dscovered every Italan spy n Germany wth the 
  use of a bowl of porrdge.
  How you converted three covens of Spansh wtches to the 
  Protestant fath n a sngle nght.
  Of your sojourn n Hades,  from whence no mortal ever re-
  turns,  and how t s that you are wth us now.
  How a flght of swans helped you free the kdnapped Prnce 
  of Persa.
  How you captured the last uncorn,  and why you let t go 
  agan.
  How your famous love-affar wth the daughter of the Earl 
  of Cadogan was cut short by a moth.
  How t s that you captaned a shp n the Swss navy,  even 
  though
  
  [     53     ]
  though you are German by brth and Swtzerland does not 
  have a navy.
  How you proved that the monster of Loch Ness does not 
  exst.
  How your crcumnavgaton of the globe led to the nven-
  ton of the four-field rotaton system.
  Why you are forbdden from wearng the colour yellow on 
  the streets of Naples.
  The great trfle of Antwerp.
  The flood of Venna.
  The bggest pg n the world.
  On what evdence you beleve apes and men to be cousns.
  The five bonfires of Rome,  and what they caused.
  Why the rver Danube ran red wth blood one Easter.
  Why the rver Thames ran green one mdsummer day.
  Why the rver Lffey ran black last Sant Patrck’s day.
  Why the lagoon of Vence became a desert,  and how you 
  remeded that unfortunate stuaton.
  How,  alone n a forest,  you blew up a bear.
  How you arrved n St Petersburg n a sledge drawn by a 
  huge wld wolf.
  How,  on a huntng trp,  you turned a wolf nsde-out.
  How you came to wrte ths game.
  APPENDIX
  
  [     54     ]
  APPENDIX TWO.
  THE RULES IN BRIEF.
   
  A ſynopsis for thoſe who have not been paying attention.
  I
  T IS the year 17——.   A group of noble persons are gath-
  ered wth a good stock of wne,  and pass the long evenng 
  by entertanng each other wth tales of ther travels and 
  surprsng adventures.   Lttle respect s pad to hstorcal 
  detals,  scentfic facts or the bounds of credblty.
   
  Each player begns the game wth a number of cons 
  equal to the total number of players.   Ths s ther purse. 
  The person who last filled the party’s glasses turns to the 
  noble on ther rght hand,  and asks them to tell a story on a 
  partcular theme by sayng,  “ So,  {Baron},  tell us the ſtory of … ” 
   
  The player thus addressed responds wth “ Yes”,  n whch 
  case he must tell the story,  or wth “ No,  my throat is too dry”, 
  n whch case he forfets hs turn but must buy a round of 
  drnks for the company.   Thus becomng the person who 
  last filled the party’s glasses,  he turns to the person on hs 
  rght and gves them a subject for a story n the same way.
   
  In tellng hs story each player should outdo the prev-
  ous story-teller wth a tale that s bgger,  wlder and places 
  more glory upon themselves.   Stores are told n the first 
  person and not be too long—about five mnutes s good.
   
  Other players may nterrupt the story-teller wth objec-
  tons or elaboratons to ponts of ther story.   Ths s done 
  by pushng a con——the stake——to them and sayng,  “But 
  {Baron} … ” (or n the grown-up verson dranng one’s 
  glass,  pushng a con to them and sayng,  “But {Baron} … ”) 
  followed by the objecton.   Interruptons should put amus-
  ng and challengng obstacles n the way of the teller’s story, 
  not nt-pck.   A player wth no cons may not nterrupt.
  The
  
  [     55     ]
   
  The story-teller may accept the nterrupton (and the 
  stake) and ether explan t away or buld t nto hs story; 
  or he may dsagree wth t.   If he dsagrees,  he may add one 
  of hs cons to the stake  and dsmss the nterrupton out 
  of hand.   He may also rdcule the asker for belevng any-
  thng so stupd and for doubtng the word of a nobleman. 
  The nterruptng player may counter by addng another 
  con to the stake and another nsult,  and so on.   The one 
  who first admts that they are wrong clams the entre stake 
  ;   f t s the story-teller then they must buld the nterrup-
  ton nto ther story,  as above.
   
  Drect nsults to a player’s truthfulness,  parentage or 
  clam to noble rank may be answered by a challenge to a 
  duel,  whch s settled by three rounds of rock-scssors-pa-
  per.   The wnner receves the loser’s purse ;   the loser must 
  drop out of the game.
   
  A story finshes n one of two ways.   Ether the story-
  teller concludes t wth a vow as to the truthfulness of the 
  matter or an offer to duel anyone who does not beleve 
  hs word ;  or one of the other players drnks a toast to the 
  player’s health and hs story.   The story-teller then chal-
  lenges the person seated on hs rght to tell a new story,  as 
  descrbed above.   There are other ways to end a story n an 
  emergency :  these are descrbed n the man text.
   
  Once all the players have each told a story the player 
  who began the game now begns the round of votng.   “ By 
  my word,” he says,  “ I declare that the ſtory about ——,  told by 
  “ Baron ——,  was the most extraordinary ſtory I have ever heard,” 
  and passes hs purse to that player.   (The cons are not add-
  ed to ths player’s purse,  but become part of hs bounty.) 
  In order,  each player pledges the whole of hs purse to hs 
  favourte tale,  and the player wth the largest bounty at the 
  end s declared the wnner and must buy a final round of 
  drnks.   However,  he may also pose the queston for the 
  first story of the next game,  whenever that may be played.
  THE
  
  [     56     ]
  The Baron’s ſkill at duelling is ſo renowned throughout Europe 
  that his opponents require not only ſeconds but thirds,  fourths, fifths 
  and ſometimes more (page 59).
  
  [     57     ]
  THE BARON’S LATE 
  ADVENTURES
   IN ARABY.
   
  A variation on the previous game told in the form of a letter, 
  containing ſtrange & curious matters including a meeting 
  with a ſailor of legend and the true location of Noah’s Ark.
  July,  18—— 
  My dear John,
  I
  T HAS been some years snce I enjoyed your abun-
  dant hosptalty and the fine company of your excellent 
  son Edward at Sknner Street n London,  and we passed 
  a pretty evenng n the concocton of a game whch I hope 
  has brought amusement and edficaton to many,  and much 
  gold and good fortune to yourself.   
   
  I have not heard from you snce those happy days and t 
  s my fervent hope that ths does not betoken any ll-for-
  tune or ll-wll.   As for myself,  you wll be glad to hear 
  that the reports of my death are mostly n error.   Rather 
  than passng the ntervenng years under the ground I have 
  passed them far above t,  on the planet Mars. As you wll 
  know from the renowned scentfic wrtngs of Dean Swft 
  the Newtonan Laws of that far place were wrtten by a be-
  ng wth a most unclear scrpt :  telescopes enlarge not the 
  mage of an object but the object tself,  apples fall at an an-
  gle of 62 degrees to the vertcal (I have seen t measured) 
  and
  
  [     58     ]
  and when cooked produce pear pes,  and tme passes at a 
  rate altogether dfferent to that on our globe.   
   
  I spent what seemed to me to be a pleasant month as a 
  guest of a prnce of that sphere, strollng along the banks of 
  ts canals——n dsposton the planet seems much lke Hol-
  land, but wth finer cheese——but when I returned to terra 
  firma I dscovered that twelve years had gone,  I had been 
  adjudged dead,  and my estate and goods passed to dstant 
  relatves who had frttered the money away on orphanages 
  and schools for the poor and other such fiddle-faddle.   I 
  am endeavourng to prove to them that I have never been 
  so filled wth lfe as now,  but t seems my relatves have 
  been metculous n filng the correct paperwork wth the 
  authortes,  and n Germany a properly completed death 
  certficate trumps a lvng body.
   
  In all of ths turmol and strfe,  the only source of con-
  stancy and reassurance to me s that once agan the whole 
  world s at war wth the French,  and that once agan the 
  French are losng.   It s worryng to me that I can thnk of 
  the French as constant and reassurng n any respect,  but I 
  am sure t wll not last.   
   
  And I hear that n the Amercas there s much talk that 
  slaves should be free.   Whle there can be no doubt that 
  ths would be a great boon to the poorest and most dsad-
  vantaged n the world,  I thnk t a manfestly unwse dea. 
  In my experence a slave acqured for free,  or for any prce 
  under two guneas,  s lkely to be as uncouth, untrustwor-
  thy and unsutable for hard work as a Welchman.
   
  At ths juncture I should apologze for the poor state of 
  my handwrtng.   There s a good reason for ths,  whch I am 
  sure you have grasped :  t s not my handwrtng.   Present 
  crcumstances demand that I must dctate the body of ths 
  letter to a scrvener,  those crcumstances beng that I am n 
  the mdst of fightng a prolonged duel,  or to be accurate a 
  successon of duels.   The cause of ths wll surely amuse 
  you
  
  [     59     ]
  you.   As you wll recall,  n my earler game I descrbed the 
  occason n Köngsberg n 17—— when as part of recount-
  ng an anecdote of great hlarty to the Hapsburg court I 
  nsulted the honour of the Kng’s 12th Hussars,  unaware 
  that the same entre regment was at that moment paradng 
  beneath the wndow of the room where I was sttng,  and as 
  a consequence every man of ther number challenged me to 
  a duel.   The rest of the story s scarcely worth repetton ;   I 
  am certan you recall t.
   
  It happened that some days ago my affars brought me 
  back to Köngsberg,  where the story of my duel s stll much 
  repeated n the coffee houses and taverns,  and the tale has 
  grown n the retellng untl t trespasses beyond the bounds 
  of credblty.   As you know my love of the truth s second 
  to no man’s,  so when several of the ctzens of ths fine cty 
  requested that I recount for them the authentc verson of 
  the cause of the duel,  I was glad to oblge them.   
   
  Such was my regard for veracty and accuracy that I 
  ncluded every detal,  ncludng the orgnal nsult to the 
  Kng’s 12th.   But I had not reckoned wth the power of co-
  ncdence,  or the possblty that I had offended some m-
  nor dety or nether sprt,  for at that very nstant the forces 
  of the unknowable had sent that very regment to parade 
  beneath the wndow once agan.   The nsult was heard a 
  second tme,  and once agan I found myself challenged to a 
  duel by the entre complement of the regment,  down to the 
  stable-boy,  the cook and the regmental cat.   
   
  It s n ths predcament that you find me——unfortu-
  nate n that I must waste the best part of a fine sprng day 
  n teachng these fellows a lesson n when to leave a thng 
  alone.   I tell you,  John,  that f these Hussar hoorahs are 
  a representaton of the standard of soldery today then t s 
  lttle wonder that the fat Corscan and hs camp-followers 
  are leavng ther sabot-prnts across the fields of Europe. 
  One would have thought that one drubbng would be suf-
  ficent
  
  [     60     ]
  ficent to show these mpudent knaves not to trfle n my 
  busness,  or eavesdrop my conversatons,  but they have 
  forced me to admnster ther educaton n these matters a 
  second tme,  and as you know f there s one thng I detest 
  more than any other t s havng to repeat myself.
   
  In order to dvert myself durng ths tedous succes-
  son of conflcts I have hred the servces of a scrbe and am 
  catchng up on my correspondence,  composng and dctat-
  ng wth one half of my mnd——the front——whle the rear 
  s occuped wth rpostng and dspatchng the remanng 
  two-thrds of the regment.   
   
  “ But Baron !” I hear you cry.   “ Can you not fight your duels 
  “ with your right hand and write your letters with the left,  as you
  “ demonſtrated before King Olav of Sweden ?” Indeed I cannot, 
  for the good reason that I am fightng wth a sword n each 
  hand,  undertakng two duels at a tme,  the qucker to ds-
  patch ths tresome task and equally tresome regment.
   
  I confess that ths s a rsky enterprse but I had not had 
  an adventure n some days,  and rememberng my prevous 
  encounter wth the Kng’s 12th I had judged the rsk to my 
  person to be slm.   It seems I was wrong :  I have already 
  lost two buttons,  the frll of my collar and a length of em-
  brocade to ther blades,  and I fear the wrath of my talor.
   
  The trck of separatng the two halves of my mnd and 
  usng each for a separate purpose s one I learned on my re-
  cent travels to the cty of Baghdad,  and t s the matter of 
  what befell me there whch concerns ths my letter to you.   
   
  Baghdad,  as you know,  has been occuped of late by a 
  hostle and uncvlsed foregn power,  vz.   the Turks,  who 
  have made the cty ther own,  settng ther barbarous camps 
  n the royal palaces,  abusng and mprsonng the nnocent 
  natves,  throwng the books from the lbrares,  lootng the 
  museums,  mposng ther own customs and values on the 
  old and venerable natves of the place,  and generally be-
  havng n as boorsh a manner as can be magned.
  I
  
  [     61     ]
   
  I had been asked to vst the cty by Sr G—— H—— wth 
  a msson of the greatest confidentalty and mportance : 
  that was,  to  {here the letter is torn,  as if by the thruſt of a poorly 
  aimed cavalry ſabre}.   I had been there a handful of days,  ds-
  gused as an ottoman,  when t became clear that to complete 
  my purpose I must gan an audence wth one of the most 
  respected elders of the cty.   I could not send a vstng card 
  declarng myself to be Baron Munchausen,  for the Turk 
  has spes everywhere and f word had got out that I was n 
  Baghdad I would have been captured and beheaded——not 
  for the first tme,  but t s an unpleasant experence and one 
  I wsh to undergo as nfrequently as possble.   Therefore 
  I determned to gan entry to ths elder’s palace not by an-
  nouncng myself,  but by means of a gft the lke of whch he 
  had never seen before.
   
  I wll not tre you wth the story of how I tracked a 
  djnn to ts lar atop Mount Ararat,  nor how I fought t to 
  a standstll and then trcked t whle t was dazed nto en-
  terng the gold lamp I had brought wth me and sealng t 
  wthn that vessel usng the sgnet rng that I had borrowed 
  from Solomon for the purpose,  for I am sure you have 
  heard the narratve before :  t s already much crculated. 
  On my return to Baghdad I sent the lamp to the venerable 
  elder wth a letter requestng hs permsson to vst hm, 
  and accordngly the next day I was shown nto the manson 
  and made the acquantance for the first tme of the vener-
  able and learned Es-Sndbad of the Sea——or,  as you wll 
  have heard of hm,  Sndbad the Salor.
   
  I hear you gasp as you read that name (I assure you that 
  I do,  even from two and a half thousand mles away,  for 
  I keep my ears metculously scrubbed and greased wth 
  hare-fat),  for are you not about to tell me that you have 
  caught me out n a le ?   Is t not the case,  you wll declare, 
  that an early edton of my Travels and Surprsng Adven-
  tures contaned as a preface a letter sworn at the Guldhall 
  n
  
  [     62     ]
  Giant birds like the rukh are a hazard that is feared by almoſt all 
  renowned adventurers (page 63).
  
  [     63     ]
  n London,  attestng to ts veracty and sgned n the pres-
  ence of the mayor by three noted authortes of the fanta-
  stck,  beng Snbad,  Aladdn,  and Lemuel Gullver ? 
   
  It s true that the book contaned such a preface,  I can-
  not deny t.   But on my honour I declare the page was not 
  there nserted by my nstructon but as a knavsh jest by that 
  rogue Smth n Oxford,  to whom I had entrusted the safe 
  publshng of my nstructve volume,  and f you should 
  ever meet hm then box hs nose and gve hm my regards. 
  The low humour of the passage should gve away the poor 
  brth of ts author to any wth an ear for words.   Besdes,  to 
  my certan knowledge Aladdn has never vsted the shores 
  of England,  and when the book was brought to press n 
  1785 Lemuel Gullver had been twenty years n hs grave.
   
  But I am wanderng far from the subject.   Once he 
  had receved my gft and seen my name attached to t Es-
  Sndbad welcomed me nto hs home wth open arms,  pro-
  fessng that he had heard marvellous stores of my travels, 
  and we spent two happy days comparng our hstores and 
  debatng whether the gant rukh-brd that had carred hm 
  out of the valley of damonds was a relatve to ether the g-
  ant kngfisher I had met on the sland of cheese or the great 
  eagle that had carred me from Thanet to Margate va the 
  Amercas,  and whether the prodgous fish on whch he 
  had landed n the supposton that t was an sland could 
  be the same huge whale that my shp had encountered some 
  years later.   It was a most edfyng experence,  to meet one 
  who dd not treat so many of my stores wth ncredulty, 
  but was able to confirm much of the nformaton theren 
  from hs own experences on so many of hs own renowned 
  voyages.
   
  Late on the second day,  the conversaton begnnng to 
  lull,  I searched my mnd for another novelty wth whch to 
  nterest Es-Sndbad’s august personage,  and I brought to 
  mnd the game I had wrote for you n London.   Es-Sndbad 
  begged
  
  [     64     ]
  begged me to demonstrate t for hm and hs household, 
  whch I dd to much laughter and applause,  and we played 
  late nto the nght.   
   
  When we gathered over breakfast the followng day the 
  old merchant nformed me that n the nght he had thought 
  of several new rules for my game that would make t work 
  better wth tales n the Araban style.   Moreover,  he con-
  fessed that my pastme had gven hm an dea for a story-
  tellng game of hs own,  and whle t was not finshed,  he 
  was confident that n a few days he would have the work 
  completed.
   
  I begged hm to tell me more,  but whle he was explan-
  ng hs new rules to me we were nterrupted by a dreadful 
  nose from wthout.   It was the Turks who,  havng been 
  told of my presence n Es-Sndbad’s house by an untrust-
  worthy cook (French),  had surrounded the place wth can-
  non and musketry,  and were demandng the surrender of 
  ‘the nfidel Munchausen’ and,  as an afterthought,  ‘also the 
  lar Es-Sndbad’.
   
  Es-Sndbad and I needed to exchange no words to 
  know that the surrender of ether party to the Turk was 
  unthnkable :  our honours and reputatons would never 
  survve t,  to say nothng of our lves.   Escape over the 
  rooftops was out of the queston as snce hs encounter wth 
  the rukh-brd Es-Sndbad had succumbed to a mortal fear 
  of heghts and even now mountng hgher than the second 
  storey of hs manson was an mpossblty for hm.   Clam-
  berng down nto the sewers was lkewse unthnkable snce 
  I had bought the brtches and boots I was wearng new just 
  three days prevously.   But how then to escape ?
   
  Es-Sndbad mooted the dea of pretendng to be as one 
  dead,  beng cast nto a deep cave wth other corpses,  and 
  watng for others to be cast down wth us,  but whle he 
  was stll expostng hs plan my eyes happened across the 
  golden lamp I had presented to hm as a token of my re-
  spect
  
  [     65     ]
  spect.   In a moment I had rubbed t aganst my sleeve and 
  the great djnn ssued forth from wthn to do our bddng. 
  But I had not consdered that t would stll be weak from 
  the blows t had sustaned n our struggle on Mount Ara-
  rat,  and therefore lacked the strength to lft both of us and 
  tself to safety.
   
  In a flash I had struck a lght to the lamp,  and the heat 
  from ts flame bllowed upwards (the mornngs n Bagh-
  dad are surprsngly chlly),  fillng the djnn’s enormous 
  pantaloons and causng them to swell outwards n a manner 
  much lke the great balloon of the Montgolfier brothers. 
  As the hot gases lfted the djnn nto the ar,  Es-Sndbad 
  and I leaped nto the turn-ups of the pantaloons and n ths 
  manner were able to soar away over the astonshed heads of 
  the Turksh army.   For the djnn was stll attached to the 
  lamp and could not rse above t,  so therefore as long as t 
  remaned lt he and we hs passengers contnued to rse.
   
  As you can magne the sght of Baghdad from the ar, 
  though ts magnficence brought joy to my soul,  occa-
  soned only the most dstressed shreks of terror from Es-
  Sndbad.   I took the lberty of tuggng hs turban down 
  over hs eyes and reassurng hm that what he had seen was 
  nothng but a great lluson created by the djnn for the 
  confuson of our enemes and we were stll safe n the court-
  yard of hs house,  thus quetng hs panc.
   
  Our escape seemed certan but I had reckoned wth-
  out the curous phenomenon of the temperature of the ar 
  growng colder the hgher one goes (caused,  I beleve,  by 
  the heat of the furnaces of Vulcan under the surface of the 
  earth).   As we rose nto the sky,  the faster became our as-
  cent untl we were hurtlng upwards towards the Sun at a 
  speed,  by my reckonng,  n excess of forty miles an hour !
   
  I feared for the safety of Es-Sndbad,  who has grown 
  old snce hs last voyage,  and therefore as we passed close 
  to a bank of clouds I grasped some of ther substance——t 
  s
  
  [     66     ]
  s remarkably lke wld cotton——and used t to fashon a 
  larger verson of the toy para-chutes that chldren use to 
  essay the safe descent of dolls,  puppes and dmnutve 
  servants from hgh wndows to the ground.   Wth a bref 
  farewell and an nstructon to not rase hs turban above hs 
  eyes untl he felt a tap on hs heels I pushed Es-Sndbad 
  from the djnn’s pantaloons and watched as he descended 
  to earth where,  I beleve,  he has snce ganed much captal 
  from the story of ths hs eghth voyage.
   
  I perceved that the wnds of the upper stratos-sphere 
  had carred us near to Mount Ararat,  and sensed that the 
  great djnn above was becomng restless at the sght of ts 
  old home.   I promsed hm hs freedom n return for two 
  of hs long curved eyelashes,  whch I attached to my feet 
  lke the runners of a slegh.   As the last of the lamp’s ol 
  was extngushed and the djnn roared away nto the sky, 
  I dropped from ts trouser-hem towards the mountan’s 
  snow-capped peak,  t beng my ntenton to sk on the eye-
  lashes down to level ground.   I confess I had never essayed 
  the sport of skng but I had seen t done and t appeared 
  an exercse of almost chld-lke smplcty that a gentleman 
  of any sophstcaton could learn n a matter of moments, 
  snce t had been nvented by Norwegans.
   
  Ths was,  I admt,  a msapprehenson.   No sooner had 
  my eyelash-sks touched the snow than I found myself 
  wrong-footed,  overbalanced,  and catapulted head-first 
  nto a snow-drft on the edge of a mghty clff.   Such was 
  my momentum that I rolled through the drft and on,  gath-
  erng snow and other debrs around my person,  all the way 
  down the sde of Mount Ararat.   
   
  Such s the sze of the mountan that by the tme I reached 
  ts foot the snowball wth myself at ts centre had attaned 
  a dameter of some half a mle,  together wth such a veloc-
  ty that t and I rolled unstoppably across Araby,  through 
  Egypt and out nto the Sahara Desert,  where the extreme 
  heat
  
  [     67     ]
  heat of the sun melted the snow and freed me from my cy 
  prson.   
   
  As I surveyed my surroundngs I found myself stand-
  ng not on sand but on the deck of some great and ancent 
  shp.   Wth a moment’s nvestgaton I understood that t 
  was nothng other than Noah’s Ark,  pcked up by my g-
  ant snow-ball as t rolled down from the summt of Mount 
  Ararat and deposted here n the mddle of the desert.   I 
  beleve that the recent expedton by Doctor Fredrch Par-
  rot has faled to find any trace of the Ark on the mountan 
  where the Bble says t should rest,  and herewth I furnsh 
  you wth the explanaton.   If you could pass ths nforma-
  ton to Doctor Parrot should you encounter hm n Lon-
  don,  I wll demonstrate my grattude at some future date.
   
  I wll not trouble you wth the extraordnary story of 
  my return to Europe,  for that s not the purpose of ths let-
  ter.   I am wrtng to provde you wth the addtonal rules 
  for my game,  as composed by Es-Sndbad.   Perhaps wth 
  these new nformatons you wll be able to publsh an ex-
  panded edton of the game,  and t s wth ths thought n 
  mnd that I feel able to request the sum of twenty guneas 
  from you as an advance payment on the wealth that such 
  a desrable producton wll surely brng to you and your 
  famly.   I regret pressng you on ths matter,  but my cur-
  rent crcumstances make t necessary.   
   
  By way of encouragement,  I am happy to tell you that 
  ths mornng I receved a letter from Baghdad,  sent by Es-
  Sndbad.   He s well,  and reports that he s hard at work on 
  hs own game based on the stores of hs famous voyages, 
  whch——rememberng the fine reports I made to hm about 
  your busness,   hosptalty and kndness——he promses to 
  forward to you at the earlest opportunty,  for publcaton 
  by yourself and your dynasty.
   
  I see that the Kng’s 12th are begnnng to brng up ther 
  artllery peces,  so for the sake of decorum I shall leave you 
  here
  
  [     68     ]
  The Baron returns to the ſhores of Europe after his adventures in 
  Araby and Africa (page 67).
  
  [     69     ]
  here :  the next few mnutes wll requre me to extngush the 
  cannon-fuses by spttng fifty feet at them,  an art of whch I 
  am unusually qualfied snce,  accordng to the dstaff sde 
  of my lneage I am n small part cobra,  beng descended 
  not from the unon of Adam and Eve but from Eve and the 
  Serpent.   But all ths s a tale for another tme,  a warm fire-
  sde,  good frends and a bottle or two of excellent tokay. 
  The spttng s an unpleasant spectacle to wtness and plays 
  a merry havoc wth the pronuncaton of vowels,  so I shall 
  cease my dctaton here.
   
  Wth best wshes and fervent hopes that our paths cross 
  soon and our swords never.
   
  Mendace veritas !
   
  Baron Munchauſen 
   
  (dictated but not read)
  ES-SINDIBAD’S
  
  [     70     ]
  ES-SINDIBAD’S RULES.
   
  As remembered by Baron Munchauſen
  T
  HE STORY-TELLERS gather together n a crcle, 
  the relatve heghts and decoratve splendour of ther 
  seatng arrangements denotng ther status vis-a-vis one 
  another,  from throne to cushons.   (I have no dea what 
  purpose ths serves n the game,  but Es-Sndbad tells me 
  he could not understand the purpose of the Character Gen-
  eraton secton wthn my orgnal desgn,  and come to t 
  nether can I.   I wll let both stand.)
   
  The second and second most mportant pont,  Es-
  Sndbad stressed to me,  s the omsson of all forms of al-
  cohol from the play of the game.   Ths seems to me a great 
  error,  not least because t removes from the room the pres-
  ence of attentve servng-grls,  but he assured me that dates 
  and mnt tea would make a very acceptable substtute.
   
  The wagerng system s also to be altered,  for Es-
  Sndbad nforms me that no zealous Moslem would dream 
  of wagerng n any form,  for such thngs are aganst the 
  teachngs of ther relgon,  and therefore all cons and oth-
  er sums of money should be replaced once agan by dates, 
  or f you have no dates then possbly mnt tea.   I confess I 
  may be unclear on ths pont,  but f the matter concerns you 
  then I am sure that Es-Sndbad wll welcome your corre-
  spondence on the subject.
   
  Each story-teller takes ther turn to recount the story of 
  one of ther voyages to the dstant parts of the world,  what 
  msfortunes befell them when they reached there,  and how 
  they returned safely to Baghdad wth sufficent goods of a 
  value that would make the Sultan hmself gulp and blush. 
  Ths therefore s the format of each teller’s story :  the voy-
  age
  
  [     71     ]
  age out ;   the msfortune ;   the recovery therefrom ;   and the 
  return home,  often n spectacular style.
   
  Snce the fame of each story-teller has spread far and 
  wde,  t s assumed that all the others have heard the tales 
  of ther exctng voyages to the reaches of the world and are 
  askng to hear the tale retold.   Rather than each member of 
  the crcle demandng a story from the one to ther rght (as 
  wth my own game play passes to the rght,  snce to pass 
  to the person on one’s left hand would be the gravest of n-
  sults n Araby),  nstead the first player requests to hear the 
  story of the next teller’s voyage to a specfic locaton,  and 
  the player beyond them adds a detal——one only——and 
  then the next adds another,  tll all n the crcle bar the story-
  teller hmself have contrbuted somethng to the outlne. 
  Thus :  
  Yaman :  “ My friend Baſhaar,  pray tell us the famous tale of your
  “ voyage to the iſland of the fleſh-eating ifrit.”
  Shareef :  “ Yes !   Do not ſhirk on the details of how all your
  “ travelling companions were torn limb from limb and devoured by
  “ the fearful creatures.”
  Jamaal :   “ And alſo how you ſeduced one of them.”
  Nabhan :  “ And how the child it bore you helped in your eſcape.”
  Faaris :  “ For myſelf,  I am moſt intereſted to hear about how you
  “ acquired the prodigious quantity of honey you ſold on your return
  “ to Baghdad.”
  Puttng asde the fact that Faars s a bore and over-preoc-
  cuped wth matters mercantle and how ths clearly dem-
  onstrates the deficences of the game when played wth-
  out the use of fine wnes to clear the mnd and loosen the 
  tongue,  the system that underles ths varaton should be 
  now as clear as the waters of the Tgrs.   
   
  The teller must now recount ther story,  ncorporatng 
  all the detals requested by the other players.   As wth mne 
  own
  
  [     72     ]
  own game the other players may break nto the story wth 
  nterruptons,  but these may only take one of two forms :  
  1.  The askng of a queston on a matter that requres great-
  er explanaton
  2.  The queston :  “ But my friend,  were you not killed ?”
  Although t s clear that the teller was not klled,  snce they 
  are here present and very much alve (at least one hopes 
  they are very much alve ;   strange thngs are known to hap-
  pen n the mystc heat of Araby and t may be a wse precau-
  ton to check the status of all partcpants wth regards to 
  vvacty before the game begns ;   a drop of holy water n 
  the mnt tea wll most often do the trck),  the askng of ths 
  queston forces them to explan precsely how and why they 
  were not klled,  and creates many amusng dversons.
   
  Ths restrcton on the lberty of the lsteners to ask 
  any questons that occur to them s,  I am assured,  on the 
  grounds of the polteness that s customary to the people of 
  Baghdad.
   
  When the storyteller finshes recountng the tale of hs 
  voyage the lsteners applaud n the usual fashon,  but any 
  who can clam that the part of the story they asked to hear 
  was omtted or elded may clam a con (or a date,  or a cup 
  of mnt tea).
   
  Alternatvely you may adopt the manner of the story-
  tellers and audences so often found n the marketplaces of 
  Araby.   In ths system any lstener may nterrupt to rase an 
  objecton to any pont of the teller’s tale.   The teller may 
  gnore the nterrupton,  or may answer t as a part of ther 
  tale ;   n the latter case the lstener must throw the teller a 
  con once the subject of the nterrupton has been explaned 
  away or nvolved nto the matter of the story.
   
  Accordng to Es-Sndbad,  t s of crucal mportance 
  that you prase,  bless and thank Allah for everythng good 
  that
  
  [     73     ]
  that happens n the story.   You must not,  however,  make 
  the mstake of blamng hm for anythng bad that happens 
  or you wll be asked to leave the room,  and on the other 
  sde of the door a large eunuch wll remove your head from 
  your shoulders wth a sword and a grn.   Ths at least s 
  the case f you play n Araby ;   I am reasonably sure that 
  the same thng wll not happen n the envrons of St James, 
  though one cannot be too careful.
   
  Shortly before hs descent from the pantaloons,  Es-
  Sndbad also made a reference to “ Strange Cuſtoms on Table 
  “ H” but I faled to ask hm what he meant by ths.   I assume t 
  refers to some act of hdeous depravty that befel hm on one 
  of hs voyages——atop a table,  one would surmse——that he 
  has cautously omtted from the publc versons of hs tales, 
  and scholars of the Eastern tales may care to take note of ths.
  MY
  
  [     74     ]
  A prank by one of the Baron’s miſchievous nephews goes badly 
  awry (page 75).
  
  [     75     ]
  MY UNCLE 
  THE BARON.
   
  A ſimpler verſion of the game deſcribed in the firſt part of this 
  work,   intended for children,  the inbred and thoſe who are 
  very drunk.
  F
  INDING OURSELVES bured n a snowdrft near 
  Saltzburg four days ago and seekng ways to pass the 
  tme,  the Empress of Russa asked me what I would take 
  for a famly motto f ‘Mendace Veritas’ were torn from me as a 
  mandrake root s torn from the earth,  screamng and wrth-
  ng,  and when I gave her my answer——“ Children ſhould be
  “ ſeen and not heard”——she laughed dantly and congratu-
  lated me on a most excellent jest.   I assure you as I assured 
  her that I am n sober earnest :  I beleve t to be among the 
  most excellent maxms ever coned.
   
  For a chld that s both seen and heard s naught but 
  a gadfly,  nterruptng ts betters as a horsefly rrtates a 
  horse,  whle you can be sure that a chld who s nether seen 
  nor heard s under the table tyng together the bootlaces of 
  hs uncles,  or n the ktchen wrappng the cat n ham,  or 
  exchangng racng tps wth one’s postllon (not that I ds-
  parage an early educaton n matters of the turf,  but postl-
  lons are notorously ll-nformed on the subject of choos-
  ng wnners else they would not be postllons),  or down 
  a rabbt-hole,  or up a chmney,  or beng swapped for a 
  changelng by mps,  or somesuch other chldsh nonsense.   
   
  Meanwhle a chld who s heard but not seen s ether 
  beng loud n a nearby room or has mastered the art of n-
  vsblty
  
  [     76     ]
  vsblty,  and both states are to be deplored n those below 
  the age of ten.   Therefore a chld who s seen but not heard 
  s the deal :  one knows that the nfant s safe,  and one can 
  be reasonably sure that one s as well.   As a footnote I am 
  compelled to add that the use of a gag s a poor substtute 
  for good parentng,  though t may sometmes be preferable 
  to the alternatve.
   
  There are,  however,  tmes when t s greatly to be de-
  sred to let chldren speak :  n the classroom,  for an exam-
  ple,  or when about to be ambushed by bears.   And I say all 
  ths as a way to preface my phlosophy that f they speak 
  then they should speak wsely,  and f they are to be wse 
  then they must be educated,  and f they are to be educated 
  then they must be taught all the subjects that,  when as-
  sembled n the correct proportons n a vessel of the proper 
  sturdness and strred by the thoughts and examples of 
  great men,  wll produce a mnd fit to run an empre or,  f 
  no empre s at hand,  then to conquer someone else’s.   Mens 
  ſana in corpore ſano,  as the poet Juvenal has t,  though I am 
  nformed by one who met hm that he was n sze somethng 
  of a bloater.
   
  It s therefore my purpose to descrbe a varaton on my 
  celebrated game for the dverson and educaton of those 
  who lack the years to play ts full-grown sblng.   It retans 
  the dedcaton to wt,  magnaton,  famly prde and the 
  Empress of Russa of the orgnal,  but wthout the drnk-
  ng,  gamblng,  duellng and coarse oaths that chldren 
  are supposed by ther parents not to understand.   I have 
  dubbed ths cut-down and soft-faced verson,  ths eunuch 
  game,  ‘My Uncle the Baron’.
   
  The play of the game s n most matters dfferent.——But 
  wat,  I have prefaced nsufficently.   As we broach ths new 
  century t s my experence that the Age of Reason has gven 
  way to an Age of Scence and that the Ages of Exploraton, 
  Adventure and Heroes are so far off n the mst of hstory 
  that
  
  [     77     ]
  that ther shapes are dm and oft mstook for passng fan-
  ces.   Ths age of ours,  ths brave new world,  has much to 
  recommend t (I thnk here partcularly of the new coffee 
  beans lately arrved from Sumatra) but I have observed n 
  my travels——on ths sphere at least——that ratonalty and 
  the scentfic method have brought two unpleasant changes 
  to our young people n ther personalty and outlook,  vz. 
  a dearth of magnaton,  and a lack of heroes.
   
  To be wthout magnaton s to be as a blnkered horse, 
  unable to see but a small porton of the world’s wonders and 
  able only to make progress n a straght lne,  to the urgng 
  of an unseen master on our backs.   It s not magnaton but 
  ts absence that bedevls us as a race :  the blnkered soul 
  knows only that he follows a path,  not where t leads or 
  why he follows t,  only that he must because he can see no 
  alternatve. 
   
  And to be wthout heroes s to lack both aspraton and 
  role-model (for whch term I am ndebted to the scholar 
  Mr Robert Merton ;   he may have t back when I am done 
  wth t),  whch s alke to lackng a destnaton and a gude 
  whose advce and example wll lead us to t.   And I tell you 
  no socety can prosper long f t knows nether ts course 
  nor why t travels so.
   
  Contrarwse,  a lfe governed only by magnaton 
  wthout am or gude s a lfe that wll be spent meander-
  ng wthout am or purpose——unless,  as I noted,  one s 
  brought to a straght road not by a blnkered mnd but by 
  the unfettered and clear sght  of an ntellect able to see and 
  understand the panorama of every path and opportunty 
  open to t,  and able to steer a course by followng the exam-
  ple of those who have travelled ths way before. 
   
  Therefore t s my argument that our world needs 
  young people wth magnaton and the example of great 
  men to lead them forward.   And when I say ‘great men’ I 
  do not mean those who excel at a popular trade,  lke hand-
  some
  
  [     78     ]
  some stage-actors or sngers,  or those who have acheved 
  fame through sportng trumph,  or exposure n the popu-
  lar press,  or poltcans :  they are but flashes n the pan of 
  hstory’s musket.   I mean men of genune accomplshment, 
  those who have pulled back the curtans of gnorance, 
  doubt,  msunderstandng and fear that are the chef cause 
  of manknd’s unhappness.   I mean explorers and leaders, 
  men of great thoughts and great deeds,  nnovators and po-
  neers of all warps and woofs,  through whose actons the 
  human condton s mproved or enlghtened.   In short,  I 
  speak of men lke myself.
   
  Accordngly I recommend ths my game to all those of 
  noble famles whose chldren have become pale,  lstless 
  and artstc through too much readng of novels, drnkng 
  of tea,  or dancng to the new Vennese waltzes.   I recom-
  mend t also to parents whose money may not be as old as 
  that of ther betters but who aspre for ther chldren to 
  acheve greatness,  as well as to anyone who has a shllng 
  and a half for the book.
     
  TO PLAY THE GAME.
  I 
  PRESENT HERE two versons of my game,  the first 
  for younger chldren or older chldren who have fallen 
  on ther heads (or other peoples’ heads) or those whose 
  magnatons have grown atrophed and spongesh lke the 
  brans of the gant crabs of old Nppon,  n whch weak spot 
  they may be struck for massve damage.   The second s for 
  ther older sblngs,  who wll not burst nto tears and run 
  to hde n ther nurse’s skrts at the hnt of a challenge or an 
  nsult.   But first,  as ths room s too hot and the chmney s 
  smokng,  I wll pause for a refreshment.
  *   *   *
  Though
  
  [     79     ]
   
  Though you,  my readers,  wll be unaware that seven 
  months have passed snce I penned those last words,  I 
  proffer my apologes all the same.   In the mdst of my re-
  past I was alerted by the shouts of my host’s servants to 
  the approach of an enormous vortex or whrl-wnd that 
  stretched from the earth to the skes lke a great funnel,  and 
  approached the house at alarmng speed.   Wastng not a 
  moment,  I demanded that the stoutest barrel n the place 
  be brought before me,  for I had formed a noton to explore 
  ths vortex,  to determne ts cause and where t led,  and 
  also to endeavour to save my host’s house,  land and famly 
  from destructon.   The barrel was brought to the door of 
  the hall,  where I leaped nto t and nstructed the servants 
  to roll t nto the path of the vortex,  whch they duly dd. 
   
  No sooner had the wnd lfted the barrel and thrown t 
  nto the heart of the ragng storm than I rased the wooden 
  ld and peered out.   In part ths was to gve me a command-
  ng vew of the nteror of the vortex,  and n part because 
  the barrel had prevously been employed for the storage of 
  strong cheese and theren had acqured an odour qute of-
  fensve to my nose,  as well as a prodgous number of mce 
  that had made t ther home.   I stared out and watched the 
  land below me soon dsappear from vew as the aëolan cur-
  rents whpped my transport hgher and hgher. 
   
  As I neared the top of the vortex I saw shapes crclng 
  n the clouds above me.   It was not,  as I had first guessed, 
  some mschevous god or nature-sprt of a neglected pan-
  theon makng trouble upon the earth nor,  as you may have 
  conjectured from my prevous adventures,  the djnn of 
  Persa strayed far from home.   No sr,  I tell you,  as one of 
  them broke from ts crclng and swooped down toward me, 
  I saw t for what t was :  a wtch astrde a broomstck,  her 
  face twsted by evl nto a monstrous vsage.
   
  In a flash I understood ther devlry :  through an ncan-
  taton and crclng moton of ther brooms they had con-
  jured
  
  [     80     ]
  jured and sustaned the vortex,  and were gudng ts path 
  across the landscape to brng destructon upon ther ene-
  mes and those of ther nfernal lord——for my host was not 
  only a noted officer of the law zealous n brngng wtches 
  to justce but also a pllar of the church who the Sunday be-
  fore had nstructed the parson to make a sermon on the very 
  subject of dolatry.
   
  Wth a cry the wtch drew the attenton of her dabolc 
  ssters to my presence n ther mdst,  and drected her flght 
  towards me.   At ths I perceved that lke the rest of her ss-
  terhood she carred behnd her a famlar sprt n the form 
  of a black cat,  and that the besom of the broom was fash-
  oned from twgs of the pussy-wllow,  stll fresh wth the 
  catkns of sprng. 
   
  As the rest of the aëral coven broke away from ther 
  crclng my sense of danger at last overcame my sense of 
  astonshment,  and I conned the perl n whch I lay.   There-
  fore n a trce I snatched up two handfuls of mce from the 
  base of the barrel and flung them nto the ar.   As one the 
  cats screeched,  and the catkns of the pussy-wllow brooms 
  flexed at the sound snce though made of wood ther felne 
  nature could not be dened.   Accordngly the brooms them-
  selves gave chase to the fallng creatures,  pullng cats and 
  wtches wth them n a dve towards the ground.   (I heard 
  t sad that the mce fell to earth n the town of Hameln n 
  Germany where they were the cause of much trouble,  but 
  what happened to the wtches and ther cats I know not.)
   
  Wthout the presence of the wtches to sustan ts ener-
  ges the whrl-wnd began to dsspate and I feared greatly 
  for my lfe,  beng at such an alttude that the fall would 
  surely have klled me.   But a moment later I felt myself 
  and my hooped craft caught up,  and the ld of the barrel 
  was plucked from my hands.   I found myself n a golden 
  charot.   I realzed at once that t must be that of one of 
  the many Sun-gods that crowd our skes today,  and on ds-
  cernng
  
  [     81     ]
  cernng hs large nose,  short stature and smell of olve ol 
  I dvned I had been rescued by the Grecan master of the 
  sun Phœbus,  whose halo lghts our world as he commutes 
  across the sky. 
   
  I bowed to my celestal savour,  who told me that he had 
  mstaken my transport for a cask of best champagne,  lfted 
  aloft by the great quantty of bubbles wthn t,  and had 
  grasped t from the ar wth the ntenton of quenchng the 
  thrst nspred by the heat of hs dvne task.   I explaned 
  the reason for hs msapprehenson and beseeched hm that 
  f he would let me alght as he approached close to the earth 
  at the onset of evenng,  I would ensure that he receved two 
  cases of the finest Reslng n my cellar.   To ths he agreed, 
  and so as the sky began to darken wth eve’s approach I re-
  entered my barrel and was pushed from Phœbus’s charot, 
  down the curve of a convenent ranbow and once more to 
  terra firma.
   
  Upon my landng I was horrfied to see a par of legs 
  stuck out from under the edge of my cask,  and was greatly 
  afeared that I had klled one of the nhabtants of ths strange 
  new land,  partcularly as by ths tme I was surrounded by 
  a curous group of these people.   A moment’s deducton 
  allowed me to realze that the skn of these natves was 
  coal-black (lttle wonder f the charot of Phœbus passes 
  so close to them every evenng) whle that of my vctm was 
  whte,  and I understood that through fortunate accdent 
  I had klled one of the wtches who had summoned the 
  vortex and who had clung to my barrel n ts transport.
   
  The local people were overjoyed by the death of the 
  wtch,  beng much plagued by ther knd,  and welcomed 
  me to ther country whch they told me was named Oz. 
  From ths I understood that they meant the dstant land 
  of Australa,  and thus that I had travelled full half-way 
  around the globe.   Ths meant that——
   
  Pray forgve me :  I was qute lost n the retellng of my 
  story
  
  [     82     ]
  story,  and had forgot that I was to descrbe to you the mat-
  ter of my new game.   To brng my narraton of ths extraor-
  dnary tale to a swft concluson :  I and my new companons 
  travelled through several surprsng adventures before our 
  curous path led us to a wzard or shaman who taught us 
  the mysteres of ther world of sprts,  whch they term 
  the ‘dream-tme’.   After much nstructon from ths wz-
  ard I learned how to navgate a course through ths tme of 
  dreams,  and so t was that I returned to the cvlsed world, 
  by travellng through the dream-tme whle the rest of the 
  world was a-sleep, and clmbng back nto ths country 
  through a convenent portal n a mortal’s dreams.  And I 
  tell you truly,  ths s how t came to be that I was dscovered 
  n the bed of the Prme Mnster’s wfe ths mornng.
   
  Dsbeleve ths story though you may,  I can prove the 
  truth of ts every word and by a very smple method.   I 
  brought the selfsame barrel back wth me from the land of 
  Oz and wll produce t for the edficaton of any doubters 
  who,  f they dare to place ther heads nsde ts mouth,  wll 
  dscover that t stll retans ts same dstnct odour of cheese 
  and colony of mce.
   
  Now that I have recovered my breath and my sprts,  I 
  shall proceed wth my descrpton of the game as I had de-
  clared I would.   Surprsng adventures are all very well but 
  beware :  they nterfere greatly wth a well-ordered pub-
  lshng schedule.
  TO PLAY THE GAME.
  I 
  SHALL DIVIDE ths chapter nto two parts,  for that s 
  the number of parts nto whch t falls :  a smpler verson 
  for the younger members of the company,  and a more chal-
  lengng set of rules for ther older sblngs and cousns,  or 
  any that have mastered the smpler game and wsh to chal-
  lenge
  
  [     83     ]
  lenge ther wts and skll stll further.   I wll not prescrbe 
  the ages at whch chldren should be ntroduced to each 
  verson for I have found that so to do makes young peo-
  ple wth a gft for story-tellng over-proud and conceted, 
  whle there are many older youngsters who are bult wth 
  the stature of an ox yet who have been graced by nature 
  wth a wt and ntellgence equally bovne.
   
  Therefore I shall commence by descrbng the more 
  detaled verson of my game,  n the form that I ntend for 
  the more mature among my younger audence,  and shall 
  then proceed to the smpler set of rules.   In ths fashon my 
  reader,  who I presume has already read my descrpton of 
  the full verson of my game,  may track the system I have 
  devzed to whttle away at the structure of my first game to 
  create these two new——
   
  But I crave your ndulgence,  for I grow weary of wrtng 
  (as I am sure you grow just as weary of readng) new syno-
  nyms for these three dfferent volumes of game rules,  and I 
  have determned n ths moment to create proper names for 
  each.   Therefore let us call the grown-up set of rules Lu-
  dens Maximus,  the revsed verson for older chldren Ludens 
  Major,  and that for younger chldren Ludens Minor.   Ths 
  leaves the minimus to be employed once I have devzed a set 
  of rules for those not yet capable of speech.
   
  ——as I say,  n ths fashon the reader wll have——but 
  hold——I have forgot my tran,  and espy another of more 
  pleasng form and more first-class carrage.   Let us make a 
  second sally.
  TO PLAY THE GAME.
  I 
  HAVE CHANGED my mnd.   I shall begn by descrb-
  ng the smpler form of ths new game,  or Ludens Minor, 
  and shall then expand t n a second secton to explan the 
  addtonal
  
  [     84     ]
  When meeting pagan deities such as Vulcan and Venus,  the Baron 
  adviſes his friends to bow low, fix their gaze on the ground and not 
  to comment on their raiment (page 85).
  
  [     85     ]
  addtonal rules by whch the play of Ludens Major may be 
  acheved.   Accordngly I now realze that ths secton should 
  rghtly be ttled ‘Ludens Minor’ and I have started upon ths 
  sally n error.   Whch remnds me of another Sally upon 
  whom I started n error,  but I am remnded that ths work 
  s ntended for my younger readers,  and shall desst.
  LUDENS MINOR.
  T
  O THE game,  then.   It s a game wth a hstory al-
  most as long and noble as my nose,  havng come down 
  to us from the ancent Greeks where t was used,  so I am 
  nformed,  as a dverson by the poets Homer,  Hesod, 
  Eurpdes,  Apollodorus and ther frends,  and whch they 
  called ‘My mythcal hero s greater than your mythcal 
  hero’ except n Greek,  a language I have learned four tmes 
  and forgotten five. 
   
  I was told ths story and taught an early verson of the 
  Greek game not by Phœbus as you may guess  but by an-
  other dvnty,  Vulcan,  who I met some years ago after 
  jumpng nto the volcano Etna——the tale s so well known 
  as to not bear a further recountng——who sad that he had 
  t from hs brother Hephæstus,  who n turn had heard the 
  ancents playng t upon Mount Lemnos as he hammered 
  at hs forges below the earth. Vulcan also nformed me that 
  when the poets were joned by Æsop  the name of the game 
  was changed to ‘Your mythcal hero may learn an mpor-
  tant moral lesson from my talkng crow’ but I do not know 
  whether I can trust hm on ths matter :  I fear he may have 
  been jestng wth me.
   
  The central argument of ‘My Uncle the Baron’,  as wth 
  my first game,  s a sequence of stores,  of whch each must 
  be grander n scope and vson than the one that came be-
  fore t.   However,  n ths verson each story must follow 
  the
  
  [     86     ]
  the theme of the tale that preceded t,  and none should be 
  longer than a sngle lne.
   
  To play the game——no,  I had the ttle of the secton 
  rght before.   I shall change t back.
  TO PLAY THE GAME.
  I
  F I MAY paraphrase Mrs Glass,  “ Firſt catch your chil-
  dren.”  A selecton of between four and sx should be suf-
  ficent,  though more s possble.   It may be necessary to 
  provde cakes to brng ther attenton to the task,  though 
  you run the rsk of makng ther focus the cakes and not 
  the game.   If ths s the first tme any of these young people 
  have played the game then let one or two adults st among 
  them,  so that the rules and style of play may be more easly 
  explaned.
   
  The game s a game of boastng,  as s my more majest—— 
  I mean,  my Ludens Maximus.   But n ths case the chldren 
  must boast not of ther own explots,  for two very good 
  reasons :  firstly such boastng s unseemly n the young, 
  and secondly f they have had adventures worth the tellng 
  at such a tender age then they are extraordnary ndeed.   In-
  stead they tell of the stores they have heard at the knee of 
  ther favourte uncle,  who I am too modest to name.
   
  The play proceeds as follows :  the player who s to start 
  (beng ether the oldest or the one who has read these rules, 
  and f they are not the same person then any dspute should 
  be settled as s tradtonal,  wth fistcuffs when Nurse’s 
  back s turned) begns the round by namng or descrbng 
  one of hs famous relatve’s explots,  for example :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with two men at the ſame 
  “ time.”
  Though
  
  [     87     ]
  Though sutable for our purposes here,  I beleve ths s 
  one of my least remarkable stores.   Other examples that 
  would suffice nclude :  
  “ My uncle the Baron raced on foot againſt a horſe from Vienna to
  “ Prague and won.”
  “ My uncle the Baron ſhot a deer by loading his muſket with 
  “ cherry-ſtones.”
  “ My uncle the Baron was once ſwallowed by a giant  whale.”
  “ My uncle the Baron beat the Sultan of Turkey at cheſs.”
  “ My uncle the Baron diſcovered an iſland made of cheeſe.”
  “ My uncle the Baron once rode upon a fired cannon-ball for a 
  “ quarter-mile”
  and f I do not fall asleep too early ths evenng I shall add a 
  lst of more such to the end of these pages.
   
  If the poor chld cannot remember any of hs uncle’s ad-
  ventures,  or has no uncles to tell hm tales of ther travels, 
  or worst of all three has only uncles who are dull,  lfeless 
  creatures over-concerned wth poltcs,  estate management 
  and the tradng of promssory notes,  who do not tell hm 
  stores,  produce half-crowns from hs ears,  take hm to 
  the theatre,  gve hm hs first sword and show hm that not 
  every grown-up s as dull as hs parents——f ths be the case 
  then the chld s permtted to make up a story of hs own 
  out of whole and new cloth,  that s to say from the cloth he 
  magnes hmself wearng when he s grown to manhood.
  THE FIRST ROUND.
  T
  HE FIRST chld tells hs tale,  and turns to he who s 
  sttng to hs left,  who must better the tale wth one of 
  hs own.   Let us return to our first story,  for the sake of an 
  example :  
  “ My
  
  [     88     ]
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with two men at the ſame
  “ time.”
  If that s the first chld’s story,  then the second chld must 
  tell one that s on the same theme but larger n all natures. 
  Thus he mght ponder a moment (gve hm a few n whch 
  to thnk) and say :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with three men at the 
  “ ſame time.”
  Though ths s a dull reply,  lackng n the magnaton t s 
  my purpose to encourage,  you wll see——as any chld wth 
  an ounce of sense wll see——that three men are harder to 
  duel than two.   So the story s more extraordnary than the 
  one from whch t spawned,  and ts teller turns now to the 
  one on hs left,  who thnks for a moment,  and says :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with three men at the ſame
  “ time,  uſing but one piſtol.”
  or perhaps :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with three men at the ſame 
  “ time and convinced them to fight each other,  not him.”
  Agan the tale exceeds ts forebear,  and agan the reasons 
  should be clear :  though the number of combatants re-
  mans the same,  the method by whch they were dspatched 
  s remarkable.   So we applaud the teller and pass to the next 
  chld,  who mght add as hs offerng :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with an entire regiment of 
  “ Pruſſian huſſars.”
  What
  
  [     89     ]
  What a fine generaton we have wrought !   What wt and un-
  derstandng are thers !   What sublme uncles they have !
  CHANGING TACK.
  I
  T IS desreable f not essental that each growth of the 
  story take a dfferent tack to the one before.   I realse I 
  am not entrely clear n what I say.   I have been samplng 
  a dark beer called Porter,  devsed n London some years 
  ago,  and I beleve I now understand how Brtan came to 
  lose the Amercas.   I shall try to explan a second tme.
   
  It s generally agreed (that s to say,  I wrote t down  and 
  when I read t back I found I agreed wth t) that f succes-
  sve players amplfy only one aspect of the story——had the 
  youth above not escalated the story to the level of my feud 
  wth the Kng’s 12th Hussars,  a subject whch I shall return 
  to shortly,  but had told of “hs uncle the Baron who had 
  fought four men at once”,  wth or wthout a sngle pstol—
  —as I say t s agreed that whle such thngs are not aganst 
  the word of the rules they go aganst ts sprt,  and there-
  fore may be challenged by the company f the company s 
  so nclned.   I shall come to challenges forthwth.
   
  The teller need not amplfy all aspects of the story,  t s 
  ther choce.   To follow on wth our example,  after the tale 
  of the uncle,  hs three adversares and the one pstol,  then 
  the next chld could have made ths response :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with three giants at the
  “ ſame time,  uſing but one piſtol.”
  or ths response :   
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with three men at the
  “ ſame time,  uſing but one piſtol,  and that not loaded.”
  or,
  
  [     90     ]
  or,  f a brght and educated fellow,  he mght combne the 
  two thus :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with three giants at the
  “ ſame time,  uſing but one unloaded piſtol.”
  FALTERING AND FALLING.
  I
  F THERE be no challenge to the story,  the play contn-
  ues untl a chld falters.   Ths must happen to us all :  t s 
  a lesson well to be learned that to fal s not to be dsgraced, 
  and s a necessty of learnng.   In the Ludens Minor a chld 
  may fal n one of two ways.
   
  In the first way,  they may become tongue-ted or con-
  fused,  and unable to recollect or magne a varaton on the 
  prevous story before the company tres of watng.
   
  In the second,  they may produce a story that the party 
  judges to be nsufficently extraordnary,  that s to say :  not 
  more extraordnary than the one that preceded t. 
   
  To take an example,  one of our young frends mght 
  have chosen to follow the tale about the uncle who faced 
  three duellsts wth but a sngle pstol wth :  
  “ My uncle the Baron once duelled with a great herd of ſheep 
  “ armed only with a jar of mint ſauce.”
   
  What deplorable uncles ths chld surely possesses,  so 
  lackng n both valour and taste.   Whle the tale mght lend 
  tself to an amusng anecdote,  I doubt that t wll exceed the 
  story of fightng three men wth but one pstol and should 
  therefore deserves to be challenged.   Press on,  my good 
  fellow,  for the nformaton on challenges awats below.
  CHALLENGES
  
  [     91     ]
  CHALLENGES.
  A
  NY MEMBER of the company may make a chal-
  lenge to the story-teller f he beleves that :  
  i.  The story-teller takes too long to concoct ther tale. 
  ‘Too long’ s a matter of taste,  and to pull one’s new French 
  half-hunter from one’s wastcoat to dspute the tme taken 
  s evdence only of excessve zeal and too much pocket-
  money.
  ii.  The tale just told s not sufficently more extraordnary 
  than the one that came before.
  I find I have already explaned ths above,  and have thus 
  repeated myself.   No matter.   The great benefit,  I find, 
  of puttng one’s thoughts on paper nstead of recountng 
  them out loud s that one may go back later and cross out 
  all duplcated,  verbose,  rrelevant,  ncoherent,  offen-
  sve,  or lbellous materal (and among that I nclude ths 
  unnecessary paragraph) before sendng the draft to one’s 
  publsher——assumng one remembers,  whch I assume I 
  wll.   I shall have these rules down to a sngle sentence wth 
  no more than two commas by the tme I am done,  I assure 
  you.
   
  If a player s challenged,  they may respond brefly to 
  justfy themselves and then t s a matter for the group to 
  decde on the merts of sad challenge :  a smple vote wll 
  suffice,  or n many cases the grumbles of the other players 
  wll prove sufficent.   It s a short rule.   I commend t as 
  such.
   
  If the challenge s declared unfounded then the player 
  (or f they have finshed ther turn then the player to ther 
  left) may contnue wth the game.
   
  If the challenge s found vald then n all cases the result 
  s
  
  [     92     ]
  The Baron recalls where he parked his horſe (page 110).
  
  [     93     ]
  s the same.   That player must absent themselves from the 
  play and the table for the rest of ths game,  and a new round 
  of play s begun,  wth the chld sat to the left of the now-
  empty char of the falterer.   For though I may have sad that 
  there s no dsgrace n falure,  there should be at least a lt-
  tle punshment.
   
  Though absented players have no more part n the story-
  tellng of ths round and may not challenge another player, 
  they may stll partake n the dscusson concernng a chal-
  lenged tale. Should they be found to be speakng wth cake 
  n ther mouths,  they should be  sent to bed early.
  CONTINUING THE PLAY AFTER
   A SUCCESSFUL CHALLENGE 
  HAS BEEN MADE BUT I 
  SHOULD ADD THAT NO POINTS 
  OR MERIT ARE GIVEN TO 
  THE CHALLENGER FOR A 
  SUCCESSFUL CHALLENGE AND
   NOW I FEAR THIS HEADING HAS
  GROWN TOO LONG AND MY
   PUBLISHER SHALL BE CROSS.
  A
  ND SO we begn a new round,  wth a new story that 
  each successve player must better or be removed 
  from the crcle of play.   After a few rounds there wll be but 
  two players left.   In ths case——as wth some of the ear-
  ler stores——a chld may find that he must surpass a story 
  that s spawned from one he orgnally started.   Well,  I say 
  good for hm and better for hs magnaton.   And f there 
  are two players then at the end of the round there wll be 
  just one,  and he wll be the vctor and s allowed first choce 
  of the cakes.
   
  The game n ths format s sutable for those who have 
  not
  
  [     94     ]
  not yet acqured much learnng or who have lost t through 
  an excess of wne,  though I have an apprehenson that those 
  who have mbbed too much may find even these smple 
  rules too much for them.   Should ths be the case I recom-
  mend the well-known pastme of ‘Quis exit ?’,  n whch one 
  person leaves the room and the others take turns to remem-
  ber who t was.   If none can recall then they must ask the 
  person on hs return,  and f he cannot remember ether then 
  t s tme to retre to bed.   In my experence ths game has 
  but one wnner,  the nn-keeper,  who wll have been servng 
  nferor claret at a superor prce for the last three hours, 
  and for ths reason I do not play t myself above two or 
  three tmes a month.
  LUDENS MAjOR.
  L
  UDENS MAjOR plays n almost all ts manners lke 
  Ludens Minor  save one and that s n the matter of chal-
  lenges.   As before any member of the company can chal-
  lenge on the grounds of excessve tme-wastng or a falure 
  to surpass the prevous story,  but there s now a thrd form, 
  ths one open only to the player who s next to play.
   
  If t seems fortutous or opportune,  or desreable,  or 
  amusng,  or the next player s unable to thnk of any way to 
  surpass the precedng story,  or has not been payng atten-
  ton,  then nstead of tellng a tale of greater deeds than the 
  one of the prevous teller,  he may nstead turn back to sad 
  teller (vz. the player on hs rght) to say,
  “ Extraordinary !   Pray tell us,  how did he do that ?”
  and we shall call ths a pray-tell-us.
   
  The prevous storyteller must then expand ther prev-
  ous sentence to the sze of a paragraph or so,  addng detals 
  and
  
  [     95     ]
  and decoraton to ther earler words as a chef adds herbs, 
  spces and seasonngs to a basc potage to make t nto a 
  dsh fit for heroes. 
   
  If he cannot explan hs uncle’s accomplshments to the 
  satsfacton of the company then he s out,  and the one who 
  demanded an explanaton becomes the one to begn the 
  next round of the game.   But f he succeeds then he s ap-
  plauded,  and he who made the demand s out. 
   
  Whle the teller s provdng hs explanaton the com-
  pany may not nterrupt to demand expanson or ntroduce 
  objecton,  for the matter of nterruptons s saved for the 
  superor form of the game,  the Ludens Maximus. 
   
  Whch topc remnds me of a rule I have omtted from 
  my orgnal game,  my Ludens Maximus of ten years past, 
  concernng the matter of wagers and stakes.   It s ths :  that 
  f the company s somewhat drunk,  or somewhat mpecu-
  nous,  or wthout the use of ts hands,  or wthout hands 
  altogether,  then the matter of stakes and wagers may be 
  omtted entrely.   As may the matter of determnng a wn-
  ner.   If tme s short then you may also omt the nterrup-
  tons,  the tellng of stores,  the wne and even the need for 
  other players,  though your enjoyment of the game may 
  suffer n consequence.
   
  I fear I have strayed from my path,  and not for the first 
  tme.   Therefore to pull myself and my game back to ts 
  course I wll furnsh a bref conversaton n the form of a 
  play,  by way of an example of the workngs and functon of 
  the Ludens Major.
  BY WAY OF AN EXAMPLE.
  W
  HILE THEIR fathers are dscussng war and 
  ther mothers are dscussng ther fathers,  we find 
  gathered four young members of the noblty of Europe. 
  They
  
  [     96     ]
  They are named Albrecht,  Bertrand,  Clarssa and Doug-
  las.   Albrecht has been taught the Ludens Major by hs old-
  er brother Adolf,  and explans t to hs frends.   Snce he 
  understands the game,  he commences thus :  
  Albrecht :  “ My uncle the Baron once flew to Scotland on the 
  “ back of a giant eagle.”
  (Omnes :  “ Oh !   Wonders !”)
  Bertrand :  “ My uncle the Baron once flew to India on the back 
  “ of a giant waſp.”
  (Omnes :  “ The Indies !   Such a journey !”)
  Bertrand :  “ May I have a cake now ?”
  Nurse :  “ Shuſh,  for it is the turn of Clariſſa.”
  Clarissa :  “ My aunt the Baroneſs once flew to an undiſcovered 
  “ land in the South Seas on the back of the winged horſe Pegaſus.”
  (Omnes :  “ A new land !   And a mythic creature !   What  ſupe-
  “ rior relatives Clariſſa has !”)
  Douglas :  “ My uncle the Baron once flew into the interior of the 
  “ hollow globe of the Earth on the back of a flying fiſh !” 
  (Omnes :  “ A flying fiſh !   How rare !”)
  Bertrand :  “ Cake pleaſe?”
  Clarissa :  “ Excuſe my impertinence,  Douglas,  but I believe that 
  “ the winged horſe of Greek legend is a more extraordinary being 
  “ than a flying fiſh.”
  Here I nterrupt my young frends to explan :  ths s a 
  challenge,  as per the rules of the Ludens Minor,  not a 
  pray-tell-us.   Nonetheless Douglas has a chance to ex-
  plan hmself :  
  Douglas :  “ Perhaps,  my lady,  but conſider that a horſe, even 
  “ one with wings,  is a beaſt faſhioned by G–d to be ridden,  while 
  “ a flying fiſh cannot be ſaddled and its ſcales make it ſlippery to ſit 
  “ upon.”
  (Omnes :  “ Good point,  good point.”)
  Clarssa’s
  
  [     97     ]
  Clarssa’s challenge s thus overturned by general agree-
  ment and the game contnues.   Albrecht s sat to the left of 
  Douglas,  and so must proceed :  
  Albrecht :  “ My uncle the Baron once flew to the Moon on the 
  “ back of a dragon.”
  (Omnes :  “ We fear that tale will be hard to beat.”)
  Bertrand :  “ My uncle the Baron once flew to the planet Venus on 
  “ the back of two dragons,  and found much cake there.”
  I nterrupt agan :  should Clarssa care to ntroduce three 
  dragons n her tale,  ths rash acton could gve rse to a chal-
  lenge :  a smple ncrease n numbers s rarely sufficent to 
  satsfy the company.   She would be advsed to try another 
  tack,  and she does :  
  Clarissa :  “ My aunt the Baroneſs once flew to the Sun on the 
  “ back of the Emperor Napoleon Buonaparte.”
  (Omnes :  alarums and excursons)
  Douglas :  “ My lady !   The Emperor Napoleon!”
  Clarissa : “ Indeed,  Douglas.   It is a moſt extraordinary ſtory.   I 
  “ would be happy to expand it for you,  if you wiſh … ?”
  Should Douglas call my lady Clarssa’s bluff ?   Has she a 
  story ready prepared ?   He wlts before her steely eye and 
  her engmatc smle——a smle much lke that of a young 
  Italan lady whose portrat I once caused to be panted by 
  a fellow called Da Vnc durng one of my bref vsts to the 
  Renassance,  I wonder whatever became of t and hm ?——
  and decdes nstead to tell hs own tale :  
  Douglas :  “ My uncle the Baron once aroſe to Heaven itſelf uſing
  “ only two planks of wood.”
  Two planks of wood !   A derogatory reference perhaps 
  to
  
  [     98     ]
  to the cunnng and wsdom of the aforesad Emperor of 
  France ?   But more to our purpose,  s such a dmnuton of 
  scale satsfactory to the game——from an Emperor to two 
  peces of wood ?   Truly,  to rse to Heaven wth such mea-
  gre tools s extraordnary ndeed,  but whether t s a sats-
  factory response depends entrely on the decson of those 
  who are playng.
   
  Any member of the company may challenge Douglas, 
  but Albrecht,  beng next to play,  s the only one who may 
  ask a pray-tell-us queston.   Whch ndeed he does :  
  Albrecht :  “ Extraordinary !   Pray tell us,  Douglas,  how it was
  “ your uncle achieved ſuch a remarkable feat ?”  
  A hush falls over the group as Douglas prepares hs re-
  sponse :  
  Douglas :  “ I am ſurpriſed that you aſk,  Albrecht,  for I am ſure 
  “ you will have heard the ſtory before.   The two planks of wood
  “ were faſtened in the ſhape of a croſs by ſome Romans in jeruſ-
  “ alem and my uncle was nailed to it,  a crown of thorns fixed to his
  “ head and——”
  Omnes :  “ Horrors !  Blaſphemy !   Hereſy !   Cleanſe the blaſ-
  “ phemer !   Call for a prieſt !   Bring faggots and a flaming brand ! 
  “ Burn the devil out of him !  ”
  Though burnng one of the partcpants at a stake s not 
  a usual way to finsh a round of my game——unless one s 
  playng n Span,  of course——there s no doubt that Doug-
  las has lost that partcular round and wll be forced to retre 
  from the game,  most lkely at sword-pont.   Once hs bone-
  fire has ded down to embers a new round shall be started, 
  Albrecht shall be the one to begn t wth a fresh tale,  and t 
  shall be dscovered that whle the others were watchng the 
  auto-da-fe Bertrand has devoured all the cakes.
  All
  
  [     99     ]
   
  All n all,  I must advse my younger readers to stay well 
  clear of matters of relgon n ther stores,  and n partcular 
  those pertanng to senstve topcs such as the bloodlne, 
  hertage and possble descendants of our Lord.   Though 
  now I menton the subject,  I have recalled what happened 
  wth that fellow Da Vnc.
   
  I trust from the above that the play of the game s now 
  clear,  and there remans nothng further but for me to re-
  tre to my bed wth the satsfacton of a good evenng’s work 
  behnd——
   
  ——but no,  for one of my lately arrved company has 
  been perusng the early pages of ths my manuscrpt,  and 
  has asked me how t was that I became stuck n a snowdrft 
  near Saltzburg wth the Empress of Russa,  when the Em-
  press s known to have a great allergy to Saltzburg such as 
  would brng her out n vapours,  fits and the dropſy should 
  she venture wthn an hundred mles of that town. 
   
  There s a grand answer to ths queston,  and to many 
  others arsng from t,  but I find that some fool hath fin-
  shed the last bottle of Madera-wne.   It may have been 
  me,  n whch sut I must observe t s a filthy sour brew 
  fit only for flavourng sauces,  curng shoe-leather and sell-
  ng to the Dutch,  and moreover the bottles are too small. 
  Whle I wat for my glass to be filled wth somethng more 
  palatable I shall turn my mnd to the lst of stores I men-
  toned earler.   A Munchausen s only as good as hs word, 
  and though I may say t myself I beleve my words here 
  have surpassed even the hghest standards of ths Age of 
  Letters.   Should any man dsagree  I wll see hm at Chalk 
  Farm,  wth as many frends and whchever weapons he may 
  care to brng,  to gve hm a lesson n lterary crtcsm and 
  when t s best to hold one’s tongue,  lest someone else hold 
  t for you.
  MY
  
  [     100     ]
  In matters of horſemanſhip during battle, the Baron finds it 
  adviſable to carry a ſpare (page 114).
  
  [     101     ]
  MY UNCLE THE BARON ONCE …
   
  Being a ſelection of brief ſtories ſuitable for commencing 
  the game,  for thoſe without the imagination or the uncles to 
  provide their own.
  … crossed the Englsh Channel on a seahorse.
  … found a goldmne n Wales.
  … shot two pheasants wth the same bullet.
  … bult a brdge across the Rhne n a sngle day.
  … drank a whole gallon of mlk.
  … met the ghost of Wllam Shakespeare.
  … stole a damond as bg as a pgeon’s egg from the Tower 
  of London.
  … swallowed a gunea.
  … was fired a hundred yards from a cannon.
  … saw a hawk before the hawk could see hm.
  … made fire by strkng two flnts together.
  … shot a hat from a man’s head at fifty paces.
  … captured a platoon of Turksh solders by pretendng to 
  be a bear.
  … caught a musket-ball that a bandt had fired at hm.
  … found the Empress of Russa’s rng nsde a hen’s egg.
  … escaped the Sege of Venna n a hot-ar balloon.
  … was swallowed by a huge fish.
  … hunted,  caught and cooked a rabbt n ten mnutes.
  … rode from Pars to Madrd n an hour.
  … wrote a play n an afternoon.
  … crossed the Charng Cross Road n a sngle leap.
  … saved the nfant prncess of Span from a wld lon.
  … caught a salmon n hs boot.
  … heard a cock crow from a mle away.
  … escaped from the Turksh army on half a horse.
  … captured a French cannon sngle-handed.
  shot
  
  [     102     ]
  … shot a gant rabbt and dned off t for a week.
  … turned an oak tree nto a shp n a sngle day.
  … nvented the sandwch.
  … bt a mad dog,  causng t to become sane.
  … dscovered a cave wheren lay a prate’s treasure.
  … grew a beanstalk as hgh as a house.
  … rode hs horse backwards for half a mle.
  … hd a dog under hs hat.
  … caused the Whte House n Washngton to turn blue.
  … bult a house out of glass. 
  … fetched a bottle of brandy from Moscow n less than a 
  day.
  … talked to Kng Lous XVI half an hour after hs head 
  was cut off.
  … bought a horse for a penny.
  … escaped from the Bastlle prson by tunnellng under the 
  wall wth a spoon.
  … composed the Natonal Anthem of Lchtensten wth 
  the ad of a sparrow.
  … rescued a prncess from the harem of the Grand Segneur 
  of Turkey.
  … swam the length of the rver Thames n a day.
  … tamed a wld boar and kept t as a pet.
  … escaped from a pursung bandt by borrowng a hot-ar 
  balloon.
  … used hs huntng-dog’s sense of smell to find the queen 
  of England’s lost handkerchef.
  … fell from a barn roof wthout njurng hmself.
  … escaped from a crocodle n Afrca.
  … caught a cloud.
  … bult a brdge across the Grand Canal n Vence n a day.
  … nvented the contnuous-acton loom.
  … met a man who had eaten a kettle.
  … owned a parrot that could count to five.
  … sneezed so hard that hs nose flew off.
  MY
  
  [     103     ]
  MY SHORTER UNCLE THE BARON.
   
  The rules of the game explained in briefer ſtyle by one among 
  the Baron’s good friends.
  T
  HE PLAYERS gather n a crcle.   The oldest begns 
  the game by brefly descrbng an extraordnary feat 
  that hs uncle may have performed.   Proceedng clockwse, 
  each player must descrbe a smlar story bult on the one 
  before t but wth the detals changed to make the new tale 
  dfferent from and even more extraordnary than the ones 
  before.
   
  If a player s unable to thnk of a better story than the 
  one told by the player on hs rght,  or f he s challenged by 
  another player and the company agrees that hs story s less 
  good than the one before,  then he s elmnated from the 
  game.
   
  After a challenge,  a new round starts.   The player who 
  was challenged,  or the player to the left of hs empty char, 
  descrbes a new feat,  and the game contnues as above.
   
  The game contnues untl all players but one have been 
  elmnated.   The remanng player s the wnner.   Elm-
  nated players may stll take part n dscussons and votes 
  on the qualty or otherwse of stores told.
   
  Optonally,  the player whose turn t s may,  nstead of 
  tellng a greater story,  may turn to the precedng player and 
  ask for them to expand ther story by sayng,  “ Pray tell 
  us,  how dd he do that ?” The precedng player must fur-
  nsh a short explanaton of the story they have outlned,  to 
  the satsfacton of the company.   If they succeed then ther 
  challenger s elmnated.   If they fal they are elmnated. 
  In ether case,  a new round s begun. 
  EPILOGUE
  
  [     104     ]
  The Baron encounters a Munchauſen of another ſort (page 106).
  
  [     105     ]
  E P I L O G U E.
  I 
  HAVE BEEN joned by some who know me of old, 
  lately returned from Hungary,  and they have brought 
  wth them some rare tokay of seven puttonyos——but Baron, 
  you exclam,  there s no tokay rated above sx puttonyos and 
  I say that n ths you speak truly for now we have drunk the 
  last of t——and I feel my sprts lfted as f my collar had 
  been grasped by the gryphon that lfted me from the mdst 
  of a banquet n Copenhagen some years ago. 
   
  In that matter the fault was mne, for I was wearng a 
  coat wth a rabbt-fur collar that the gryphon,  whch had 
  been asleep n the rafters for some two centures where t 
  had been mstaken for an heraldc carvng,  n ts turn ms-
  took for ts wld prey.   A smple error,  one both easy to 
  make and easy to rectfy,  for as the mythc beast flew wth 
  me toward the great west wndow of the hall I snatched up 
  the hat of one of the entertaners,  convenently a magcan, 
  and produced from t a real rabbt that convnced the great 
  creature to let me go n exchange for that more palatable 
  morsel.   But I am dgressng.
   
  The frends I mentoned have prevaled upon me to tell 
  one of my tales and I find,  havng made menton of t above 
  and also n the earler parts of ths work,  that the tme has 
  come for me to spread abroad the true story of the Kng’s 
  Own 12th Hussars and how I earned ther re so long ago. 
   
  I have heard t sad by others that ths s truly the most 
  extra-ordnary of my adventures,  nvolvng as t does 
  not just the Hussars but also ncdents of msadventure, 
  peradventure,  hgh adventure,  hgh treason,  a dfferent 
  snowdrft near Saltzburg and ndeed a dfferent Empress 
  of Russa,  and the transmsson of a curous and panful 
  alment that I can only call ‘Munchausen by doxy’——and 
  I am pleased to agree wth these august crtcs.   Ths story 
  s
  
  [     106     ]
  s ndeed my finest,  and I am pleased to at last commt t to 
  the prnted word and thus to mmortalty.
   
  How many stores of hstory have been lost because of a 
  lack of a sutable recorder to recall the detals,  or a narrator 
  to gve sufficent gravitas to ts re-tellng ?   Lke a cannon-
  ball,  a good tale requres enough force to propel t through 
  the zephyrs of hstory.   Would we today know the hstory 
  of MacBeth f Shakespeare had not rescued that monarch 
  from the mre of Scotch hstory and held hm up as an ex-
  ample to the world of why we should not trust men who 
  wear skrts ?  Would Oddyseus stll be salng the Medter-
  ranean f Homer had not guded hm home to Ithaca every 
  tme that he sung hs story ?  Would I myself have any lega-
  cy f I had not thrown asde a nobleman’s customary robe of 
  modesty and recounted my stores ?   (That last queston s 
  rhetorcal,  snce I have known ts answer ever snce I trav-
  elled to the year 2057 wth the ad of a mraculous machne 
  created by my late frend Mr Benjamn Frankln.   In that 
  year the whole world s flooded and the ctes are suspend-
  ed n the ar by great balloons called Munchauſens for the 
  quantty of rare gases n them, so I know I have an mmor-
  talty of a strange,  bulbous knd.)
   
  But my frends are becomng rbald and I must proceed 
  wth my tale.
   
  It so happened that I was travellng through the Alps 
  durng the wnter of 17—— when n a remote pass I came 
  across a curous sght :  a field of snow covered entrely n 
  the unforms of the Kng’s Own 12th Hussars,  wth weap-
  ons,  medals,  saddles,  tack and all,  as f an entre reg-
  ment had vanshed suddenly nto the ar.   No footprnts or 
  marks of horses were vsble to mne eye,  but at the centre 
  of the field stood a small chld whose laughter rang out 
  through the cold ar.   In a moment I realsed that the figure 
  was no chld but someone or n truth ſomething that I had 
  met before upon my travels :  that most bone-chllng of 
  eldrtch
  
  [     107     ]
  (the remaining pages of the book have been torn out)
  
  [     108     ]
  
  [     109     ]
  
  [     110     ]
  ABOUT THE AUTHORS.
  BARON MUNCHAUSEN was the greatest adventurer 
  and raconteur the world has ever known. According to 
  historical record he died in 1797.
  GUSTAVE DORÉ was the finest illustrator of the nine-
  teenth century, and is best known for his engravings of 
  scenes from the Bible and Dante’s Inferno. He died in 
  1883.
  JAMES WALLIS is a Origins Award-winning games 
  designer, author and publisher, fortunate in having high-
  quality ancestors.
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron Munchausen [multi]/The Extraordinary Adventures of Baron Munchausen Corebook Revised and Expanded.pdf