Books to Match all Dresses.
All lovers of literature will be delighted to hear that Miss Cumberland Smith’s latest work, “Chained by Circumstance,” is to be issued in tooled green leather to match the dainty little belts which are being shown this week by Mr. Peter Jay. This book would look particularly well with a white satin Liberty robe, a stole of Indian work, and the hair coiffured in the mode retroussé, which is now, we are glad to see, once more with us.
Another little gem for book lovers is certainly Lady M.’s wonderfully realistic “Revelations of Revolt,” bound in crimson and black. No brunette should be without it. To go with this beautiful volume we should strongly recommend a simple Empire costume of crimson panne, with deep frills of accordion-pleated white chiffon, edged with black ruching, with sprays of crimson chrysanthemums falling to the feet.
Algy (suddenly taking the change out of his pocket and examining it). “I say, old man, what do you think? I gave our cabby a sovereign and a sixpence for bringing us here from the club!”
Freddie. “My dear f’lla, you’re always overdoin’ it. A sovereign would have been ample!”
Making Conversation.—He. “I suppose you have been everywhere during the season?”
She. “No season. Nothing to read. Nothing to see.”
He. “Then there is nothing to talk about?”
She. “No, nothing. Can’t you suggest a novelty?”
He (brightening up). “Yes—the weather.”
[Left talking.
A Forlorn Hope.—The Dowager. “Now, you’ve got all the girls off your hands so successfully, except poor Maria, you ought to give her a chance.”
My Lord. “Yes—a—give a ball—a—or a garden party—a——”
My Lady. “Oh, poor Maria’s not worth a ball—nor even a garden party. We might give an afternoon tea!”
“I say, Nell, the Dad says that he remembers that old boy when he hadn’t a shirt to his back, and now he has thousands.”
“Good gracious, how extravagant! And how hot!!”
COUNTRY-HOUSE PETS
Country-House Pets (The morning-room at Glen-Dimity Castle, after lunch. Mr. Belamy Tabby is singing “Hi tiddley hi ti, hi, ti, hi!”).—The Duchess. “How clever and amusin’ your friend, Mr. Whatshisname is!—Tabby, isn’t it! So good-lookin’ and gentlemanlike too! Quite a godsend on a rainy day like this, when all the men are out shootin’ or fishin’, or something! Is he married?”
Noble Hostess. “Oh yes; but what’s so nice about him, he doesn’t mind bein’ asked without his wife. Those sort of persons so often expect their wives to be asked too, and that’s such a bore, you know!”
Her Grace. “Yes; how sensible of him! I must get him to come to us at Brasenose Towers!”
An Unselfish Man.—Colonel Slyboots, M.P. “So sorry to leave you all alone at Mudboro’, my love; but duty will compel me to be at my post at Westminster for the Autumn Session, you know. So dull in town without you, too.”
Mrs. S. “Poor dear! Then I’ll accompany you, my angel!”
Colonel S. “Oh, on no account. Wouldn’t hear of it!”
Society Small Talk.—“On the young lady’s exclaiming ‘How well these rooms are lighted!’ the young man might reply, ‘Yes, by the light of Beauty’s eyes, and you are lending your share, which is not a small one, to the general illumination, the brilliancy of which is almost too dazzling to a poor mortal like myself, to whom it is well that moments such as these are brief, else the reaction would be destructive to my peace of mind, if not altogether fatal to it.’”
Young Peter Piper has got his lesson well by heart, and is only waiting, to begin, for the lovely Miss Rippington to exclaim, “How well these rooms are lighted!” which, unfortunately for him, they are NOT.
Honours Divided.—Mr. Goodchild. “Yes, I do feel in good spirits this evening. My boy has passed his examination!”
The Earl. “Well, I don’t see anything in that. So has mine.”
Mr. Goodchild. “Er—Indian Civil?”
The Rev. Lazarus Jones (who has been honoured by an invitation to lunch with that great man, Sir Gorgius Midas, just returned from America). “I suppose you are glad to get back to your comfortable house again, Sir Gorgius?”
Sir Gorgius Midas (who perhaps does not like his palatial residence to be called a “comfortable house”). “Yes, Jones! Be it ever so ’umble, Jones, there’s no place like ’ome!”
MRS. BOREHAM AT HOME
Mrs. Boreham at Home (Amateur Theatricals).—Sir Pompey Bedell. “Allow me to congratulate you, Mrs. Boreham, on a most successful entertainment! I have never set foot inside a theatre myself, I am proud to say, nor attended even private theatricals before—such things are not in my line! But I can honestly assure you that I have rarely seen histrionic ability more consummate, or a dramatic performance more exceptionally complete in every respect, than that which it has been our truly enviable privilege to witness this evening!”
An Amendment.—Vera. “What must I do about the Billsomes’ dance? I dislike the Billsomes, and I don’t want to go.”
Phillis. “Well, say you regret you are unable.”
Vera. “Wouldn’t it be more truthful to say I am unable to regret?”
It’s an East Wind that blows Nobody Good.—“Here comes the carriage, Maud! Fancy having to go and pay calls in such weather! It’s enough to give one one’s death of cold!”
“Worse than that, mother! Everybody’s sure to be in!”
One Way of Fasting.—Miss Kate (to Mr. Joskin). “You don’t know how glad I am that Lent has begun.”
Mr. Joskin. “Why?”
Miss Kate. “Because there are no more stupid dinner-parties and balls. We only go to theatres and restaurants now.”
Not THE Word.—Young Lady (in the drawing room). “Just listen! I can hear the gentlemen laughing. I believe they tell all their good stories directly we’re out of the dining-room.”
Experienced and rather severe Matron. “Good stories, dear! No—‘good’ is not the word.”
An Eye for Essentials.—Mamma (house-hunting for the Season). “It’s a good house for a dance, Emily!”
Emily. “The rooms are rather small, aren’t they?”
Mamma (who knows how matches are made). “Yes; but what a capital staircase!”
Snookson. “Yes; Hastings is a charming place, and has quite a peculiar—a—and half-melancholy interest for me. We came over with the Conqueror, you know!”
Fair Bostonian (late from Paris). “Ah, that must have been very trying! We came over with the Calais-Douvres.”
[S. tries not to look foolish.
ANNALS OF A RETIRED SUBURB
Mrs. Boultby Smith and her daughters have been “at home” to their London friends every Wednesday afternoon for the last seven years. Last Wednesday some visitors actually came!
ANNALS OF A QUIET NEIGHBOURHOOD
Mrs. De Vere Tomlinson at home. Puzzles. Small and early.
PRIG-STICKING
Prig-sticking.—Little Prigson. “Oh! as for Grigson, he’s distinctly the most objectionable little prig in all England; but his sistah’s quite the nicest girl I ever met.”
Aunt Eliza. “Dear me! What sweeping assertions! You might have had the decency just to make the traditional exception in favour of present company!”
Cousin Maud. “Yes; in both cases, you know!”
Some Distinctions and a Difference.—Hostess has just been showing Guest the picture gallery and other glories of the ancient Baronial Halls, at the same time discoursing of the family greatness. Guest (pointing to row of busts). “And are these celebrities or just relations?”
Limited.—She. “Yes; that stupid man who came with the Smiths trod on the duchess’s train, and it tore right across, and the dear old thing never said a word. Wasn’t it sweet of her?”
He. “Well, there was only one word she could have said!”