Classifieds: Cozy, Carpeted Flat for Rent

FOR RENT: I am in need of surplus income to support my horse’s laudanum addiction. Unfortunately, my horse “Wellington” became addicted to tincture of laudanum while recovering from wounds suffered after he broke his leg and I shot him (he survived).

My miserly wife controls our finances and is unwilling to use general household funds to purchase laudanum, so I am developing a revenue stream independent of her control. Specifically, I am seeking to rent out the trunk of my motorcar as a studio flat. The trunk is spacious, as trunks go, and could comfortably fit a robust bachelor or a petite couple. For noise reasons, I am unwilling to rent to families with children or pets.

If you lived here, you’d already be home!

The trunk comes furnished with a tire iron and a steel drum of spare petrol, although the latter is not to be used by the tenant.

Please be advised that I move my motorcar frequently, and the tenant will receive no advance notice thereof. References required, serious offers only.

— Earl Lesley Whitechapel

Classifieds: One Moon Cannon For Sale, Single Owner

Stock photo

FOR SALE: one bronze moon cannon. This cannon was used by my great-great-uncle Phineas during the Civil War to bombard suspected Confederate positions on the moon. Please note that it is useful for firing projectiles at any moon, not just the moon circling the Earth.

— Colonel Archibald Swiddlesworth

Editorial: The Security of our Lodge is on Thin Ice

Contributed by Dr. Meriweather Southwark

The entrance to the Forest Park Fox Hunt’s underground lodge, unacceptably accessible via ice.

As happens every winter, the moat that surrounds the entrance to our underground lodge has become frozen. What was formerly a formidable barrier is now, at best, a slippery inconvenience, and our subterranean lodge is temporarily without its primary defense against fox incursion. Whereas under normal circumstances a fox must acquire a watercraft to reach the entrance to our lodge, the moat’s iced state allows any interested fox to simply trot across.

Editorial: We Must Arrest Our Park’s Decline

Contributed by Commodore Percy Houndsfarthing

Put on your stereoscopic glasses and see this in 3-D!

I ask Hunt members to reflect upon the images above. You are probably aware that the image on the right is the Grand Basin as viewed from the summit of Art Hill. You can be forgiven for assuming that the image on the left is of some sort of white marble paradise that exists only in the heavens.

Classifieds: Millions of Gallons of Muddy Water for Sale

Please note: Boat not included.

FOR SALE: I recently acquired the Missouri River in a game of chance, and I am seeking interested buyers.

I intended to industrialize this mighty river by building a watermill to grind candlenuts into candlenut meal. Unfortunately, I have been unable to identify producers who can supply me with candlenuts in sufficient quantity, or buyers who are interested in buying candlenut meal in any quantity at all.

Furthermore, the river is currently plagued with an infestation of barges, and I am unwilling to invest in the gunboat flotilla that would be necessary to eliminate this nuisance. Consequently, I wish to sell this property to the highest bidder.

Interested buyers should note that the Missouri River is rumored to be a potential route to the western ocean.

– Master Basil Bermondsey

Editorial: Motorcars–A Menace to Gentlemen

Contributed by Earl Lesley Whitechapel

This is what a “car” looks like.

Members of the Forest Park Fox Hunt, and indeed all gentleman of St. Louis, will have noticed of late the unwelcome proliferation of motorcars in Forest Park. With their unnatural shininess, antennae, and glazed windscreens, these “cars” have proven to be a menace to those of us habituated to enjoying the park on horseback.

Classifieds: That Borax Isn’t Going To Mine Itself

An artist's depiction of how the Arch would appear if it were three times its actual size.

FOR SALE: I, Colonel Archibald Swiddlesworth, am offering for immediate sale the mineral rights to the land beneath my “St. Louis Gateway Archibald.” (Or “the Arch” as I understood it to be known among those who have no sense of this city’s history, and my role in it.)

Letter to the Editor: I Caught Basil Cheating at Fox Hunting!

Mr. Gorbechev, tear down this wall!

Sirs,

For the good of the Hunt I must cast the cold finger of accusation at one of our fellows. Namely: Master Basil Bermondsey. Basil is a close chum and I do not wish to publicly humiliate him. And yet, I will.

Classifieds: Fox Mimic Required (Urgent)

The most dangerous game is hunting men dressed as foxes.

HELP WANTED: The Forest Park Fox Hunt requires a capable fox mimic to participate in an upcoming hunt. The summer solstice represents one of the most important hunt days of the year. In honor of the year’s longest day and the apex of St. Louis’ famed “white nights,” we will hunt with pistols and crossbows rather than foxhounds.

Because foxes are wary of projectile weapons and unlikely to emerge from their burrows if they catch word of our intentions, we require a woman (or a petite man) to dress as a fox and allow us to hunt her. Injury is unlikely, as our aim is poor and we have yet to strike any target, fox or human, during our hunts. Mimics must own their own fox costume, or be red-haired and very hairy. Especially talented fox mimics may be offered additional opportunities in anti-fox espionage.

— Earl Lesley Whitechapel

Classifieds: Garden Sentry Needed

If you shake your computer, you can see this topiary moving menacingly towards you.

HELP WANTED: I require a night watchmen with keen vision and steel nerves to stand guard over my topiary garden next month at the full moon. During the last full moon, I was enjoying a blustery evening at home when I witnessed one of my topiary creations – in this case, a shrub trimmed to look like a chimneysweep – sway slightly to one side. By the time I had retrieved my elephant gun the shrub had returned to motionlessness, and remained so even after I fired several rounds through it. (And into the Whitechapel family’s private art gallery, where the bullets nicked the Whitechapels’ life-sized replica of the Parthenon. My apologies!)

I have many topiary sculptures representing a wide variety of tradesmen, and I am concerned that during next month’s full moon, these shrubs might awaken and attack my estate in a fury of botanical socialism. Consequently, I require a night watchman who can sit among these sculptures overnight, keep a close watch on them, and – if necessary – detonate the dynamite charges I have placed throughout the garden and by doing so incinerate these demon shrubs. The Night Watchman will be provided with a rake for personal protection.

— Colonel Archibald Swiddlesworth