DISTINGUISHED INVALIDS
(Latest Bulletins)
[“A person writing to the Daily Dispatch says the Marquess of Anglesey’s wonderful polyglot parrot is not ill, but on the contrary was laughing and chatting very heartily on Monday.”]
We are glad to be able to state that Lord Mount Sorrel’s favourite monkey, which has been suffering lately from phlebitis, is well on the way to recovery. No further bulletins will be issued.
The report that Lady Agatha Fitzhunter’s pet pony was confined to the stable with bronchitis is grossly exaggerated. The pony merely complained of being a little horse. The joke, of course, like its maker, was a chestnut.
Mrs. Martin Bradley’s French poodle is rapidly re-covering. It is admitted on all hands, however, that it was a remarkably close shave.
The alarming rumour that Lord Barndore’s famous owl (which had been suffering from insomnia lately) had committed suicide on Tuesday night, is happily contradicted this morning. It appears that the owl had merely left the house for a few hours for a special purpose-to wit, to woo!
Lord Raspberry’s prize turkey, which a short time ago had a painful operation performed on its neck, was able to appear at dinner last night and received a cordial welcome from those present.
The absurd tale that Lady Hopton Wood’s pretty little Manx cat was suffering from diseased liver has no foundation in fact. The liver was perfectly good, and similar to that usually supplied.
A DISTINCTION AND A DIFFERENCE
A Distinction and a Difference.—Gorgius Midas Junior (a crack dancer in his own set) gets a card for a dance at Stilton House, and waltzes with Mrs. Ponsonby de Tomkyns, the only lady he knows there, and who has often been his partner under the paternal roof. Proudly conscious of creating a sensation, he is dancing his very best, when—
Mrs. Ponsonby de Tomkyns (suddenly). “We’d better stop, Mr. Midas! This form does very well at Midas Towers, but it doesn’t do here!”
[G. M’s “form,” which is not restricted to himself, consists in holding his partner like a banjo, and hopping slowly around her beneath a chandelier.
“The Last Feather” (Time—4 a.m.)—Little Twister (to his Host, lighting his tenth cigar, and having exhausted “The Spanish Crisis,” “Dissolution of Parliament,” “Voyage of Challenger,” &c.) “By th’by, Bloker, it strikes me there are several points in this Tichborne case that——”!!
[All we know further is, that about this hour a short gentleman was seen to leave a house in Gravelotte Crescent hastily, without his hat, which was thrown after him!
NOT A PLEASANT WAY OF PUTTING IT
Hostess. “I’m afraid we are going to be a very small party to-night. The fog seems to have kept away all our best people!”
EXCLUSIVENESS
Host. “Nice party, ain’t it, Major Le Spunger? ’Igh and low, rich and poor,—most people are welcome to this ’ouse! This is ‘Liberty ’All,’ this is! No false pride or ’umbug about me! I’m a self-made man, I am!”
The Major. “Very nice party, indeed, Mr. Shoddy! How proud your father and mother must feel! Are they here?”
Host. “Well, no! ’Ang it all, you know, one must draw the line somewhere!”