Well if that isn't a butiful business like arrangement, my Lord Mare, I should like to know what is.
However, as I wunce herd a Deputy say, when things cums to their wust, things is sure to mend, and I don't think that things can be much wusser than that.
[Illustration: LIGHT PUFFS RAISED A LITTLE SWELL]
THE SPIRIT OF THE THING.--_Landlady_ (_to shivering lodger_). No, sir, I don't object to your dining at a restorong, nor to your taking an 'apenny paper, but I must resent your constant 'abit of locking up your whiskey, thereby himplying that me, a clergyman's daughter, is prone to larceny.
[_Lodger immediately hands her the key as a guarantee of good faith._
So! as it's a fine day, you'll sit on the beach and read the paper comfortably, will you? Very good! Then we recommend you to get what guinea-pigs, brandy-balls, boats, and children's socks, to say nothing of shell-workboxes, lace collars, and the like you may want, before you settle down.]
[Illustration: "Excuse me, sir. I seem to have met you before. Are you not a relative of Mr. Dan Briggs?"
"No, madam. I _am_ Mr. Dan Briggs himself."
"Ah, then that explains the remarkable resemblance!"]
_Lodger._ "And then, there's that cold pheasant, Mrs. Bilkes"----
_Landlady._ "Yes'm, and if you should have enough without it, lor', Mr. Bilkes wouldn't mind a eatin' of it for his supper, if that's all."]
[Illustration: _Mrs. Brown._ "Might I ask how much you gave that nigger?"
_Mr. Brown_ (_first day down_). "Sixpence."
_Mrs. B._ "Oh, indeed! Perhaps, sir, you are not aware that your wife and family have listened to those same niggers for the last ten days for a _penny_!"]
_Mermaiden._ "I am told you keep a circulating library?"
_Librarian._ "Yes, miss. _There_ it is! Subscription, two shillings a-week; one volume at a time; change as often as you please! Would you like to see a catalogue?"]
_Polite Little Girl_ (_suddenly_). "This is my mamma, sir. Will you please sing her, 'It's the seasoning wot does it!'"]
[Illustration: OUT OF TOWN (UNFASHIONABLE INTELLIGENCE)
_Visitor._ "What a roaring trade the hotels will be doing, with all these holiday folk!"
_Head waiter at The George._ "Lor bless yer, sir, no! They all bring their nosebags with 'em!"]