The editor J. A. Hammerton introduces the collection by asserting that Mr. Punch is 'the best of travelling companions' and that the humour targets 'the insular Englishman abroad.' This framing sets up a dual purpose: to entertain while gently correcting national foibles. The opening pages also list over a dozen contributing artists, from Phil May to Bernard Partridge, signalling a rich visual component. A sample cartoon caption—'Porter, take this lady and gentleman to the Romeo and Juliet room'—immediately establishes the hotel-based comedy that recurs throughout.

The Editor’s Stated Purpose

Hammerton’s preface claims that Mr. Punch, despite his English features, has 'some trace of foreign origin' and a 'breadth of mind' not limited by the coastline. This editorial voice positions the book as both patriotic and cosmopolitan. The humour, he argues, should encourage English readers to 'give as good an account of themselves' abroad. The excerpts bear this out: many jokes contrast the English tourist with Americans, locals, or even fellow Britons. For instance, an American tourist on Vesuvius exclaims 'Great snakes, it reminds me of hell!' and an English tourist responds, 'My dear, how these Americans do travel!'—a neat reversal of the usual target.

A Medley of Comic Forms

The excerpts showcase a range of formats: one-line gags, short dialogues, a poem with prosaic interruptions, a mock letter, and a riddle. The poem 'To My Airship' alternates lofty lines with bracketed mechanic’s comments like 'Look out! the ballast’s slipping off behind,' puncturing the romantic tone. The letter from 'Dionysius Dabelrisk' of Peckham Rye complains about seasickness cures, using a mock-learned tone. This variety means the reader encounters different paces and styles, from quick puns (e.g., 'Un tour de Force' for a policeman’s beat) to extended scenes like the motorist asking for water and being offered tea.

Recurring Settings and Situations

Several excerpts share settings: hotels, railway stations, seaside resorts, and foreign landmarks. The 'Romeo and Juliet room' joke appears early; later, a scene at the Grand Hotel in Paris has Blithers mistaking a footman for a fiancé. The seaside appears in a boy’s remark that a dirty tripper won’t get clean 'in once' bathing. These repeated locations create a cohesive world of travel mishaps. The humour often hinges on miscommunication or cultural clash, as when a boatman in the West Indies explains that alligators fear sharks, or when a Norwegian parson’s 'quick work' marrying couples is misinterpreted as 'sixteen knots an hour.'

Satire of National Character

The excerpts consistently poke fun at English insularity and American haste. The American tourist who asks 'how long will it take you to tell us about it?' is a clear stereotype, but the English are not spared: the English tourist’s condescending remark about Americans is itself mocked. The editor’s preface warns against 'insular Englishmen,' and the jokes deliver. A riddle contrasts 'a traveller' with 'a broad bean' (one has been abroad, the other is a broad bean), while the motorist’s encounter with a rustic who offers tea instead of water gently satirizes rural simplicity. The cumulative effect is a balanced critique that invites readers to laugh at themselves.

Because the excerpts are drawn from the beginning, middle, and end of the collection, they reveal a deliberate structure: the editor’s framing, a variety of comic forms, recurring settings, and a consistent satirical stance. Readers approaching the full book can expect these patterns to continue, with each section offering new variations on travel humour. The illustrations, though not reproduced here, are integral to the experience, as the list of artists suggests. A first reading benefits from noting how the jokes build on shared assumptions about national identity and travel etiquette.