Seeing that his secret was known, the old Alchemist heaved a heavy sigh, and disappeared, perchance for ever!
_Mrs. Fidget_ (_who has been fingering all the Joints for some time_). "CAN YOU GUARANTEE THIS TO BE WELSH MUTTON?"
_Butcher's Assistant._ "CERTAINLY WE CAN, MUM; BUT IF YOU GO 'ANDLING IT MUCH LONGER, IT'LL BE _IRISH STOO_ DIRECTLY!"]
All work and no play Makes a dull boy; so they say, Proverb-mongers, pretty bards. "All play," may be, worse I'll bet 'em! If they doubt my word, then let 'em Try _my_ hand at (Christmas) Cards!
True for you! You growl with reason. Hearts are trumps, and at this season, Pray remember, Goldylocks, When your cards arrive in flocks, Postman earns _his_ Christmas Box!
"REDE ME ARIGHT!"--SIR EDWARD REED, M.P., is anything but a "bruised reed." On the contrary. More correct would it be to describe him as A Bruiser Reed, for his plucky encounter with his adversaries, over whom he triumphed by "A Vast Majority."
_À propos_ of an interesting article in the _Daily Telegraph_ last Thursday on this subject, the problem that most naturally suggests itself is, "How about the dinner, if you haven't any tin?" "No Song, No Supper" is pleasantly alliterative, but is not of universal application. "No tin, no dinner," may pass into a proverb, but, anyhow, it's a fact.
"AH!" exclaimed our dear old Mrs. R., "I'm fond of high-class music. For many years I've heard my musical friends talking about 'SHOOLBRED'S Unfinished Symphony.' Why doesn't he get it finished? When was it ordered? But there--I know geniuses are always unpunctual."
(_As Illustrated by recent Political, Social, and other Public "Functions."_)
Say you'd get up an "Inaugural Meeting," _Anything_ "forming," or _Anyone_ "greeting," If you'd have guests in their tankards their nose bury, Ruddy with mirth, you must put up Lord ROSEBERY. If facts and statistics your minds you will task with, He must be followed--of course--by young ASQUITH. Q.C. and canny Earl, Earl and 'cute Q.C., gents! There you've your "Popular Programme" _in nuce_, gents!
How I loved her, blindly, madly! Sighing sadly, Feeling hurt If I did not see her daily. Oh, how gaily She could flirt!
Flirt with me, or flirt with others, With my brothers Just as well,