DRINKING SCENE OF THE FUTURE
(In consequence of the Growing Demand for Lighter Liquors)
Scene—The interior of a Dining-room. The ladies have just left, and the gentlemen are discussing their beverages.
Smith. I say, Brown, if it is not an impertinent question, where did you get that toast-and-water?
Brown. I thought you would be deceived! It was a cup, not the pure article! My butler is a first-rate hand at it. I will give you the recipe if you like.
Smith. Do. It was excellent. What is the secret?
Brown. Something, I fancy, to do with watercress.
Jones. I say, Brown, that was really very nice sherbet. Turkish or Persian?
Brown. Neither. Came from the Stores. Home-made.
Jones. Well, it certainly was capital. I could have sworn that it had been manufactured east of the Levant.
Brown. More likely east of Temple Bar. And now shall we have a whitewash before we join the ladies?
Six Guests. No, thanks! Really not!
Half-a-dozen more of the Company. Really not! No, thanks!
Brown. Nonsense! (Produces a pint bottle of lemonade.) Nonsense, I repeat! Look here, my boys. (Locks door.) Not one of you fellows shall leave the room until you have finished this!
[Draws cork of pint bottle, and distributes the lemonade amidst the good-natured protestations of the revellers. Scene closes in upon the temperance orgy.
A PERSONAL GRIEVANCE
"I say, won't they let you go into long trousers?"
STUDIES IN ANIMAL LIFE
The Goormong. (Epicuri de Grege Porcus. British Isles)
Mr. Huggins. "What a 'eavenly dinner it was!"
Mr. Buggins. "B'lieve yer! Mykes yer wish yer was born 'oller!"
The New School.—Uncle (who is rather proud of his cellar). "Now George, my boy, there's a glass of champagne for you—don't get such stuff at school, eh? eh? eh?"
George. "H'm—awfully sweet! Very good sort for ladies—but I've arrived at a time of life, when I confess I like my wine dry!" (Sensation.)
Pleasant!—Lord Reginald Sansdenier (in answer to confidential remark of his host). "Twenty thousand pounds worth of plate on the table, Sir Gorgius? I wonder you ain't afraid of being robbed!"
Sir Gorgius Midas. "Robbed, my lord! Good 'evens! I'm sure yer lordship's too honnerable heven to think of sich a thing!"
Farmer. "I say, John, what do you call a pineapple—a fruit or a vegetable?"
Waiter. "A pineapple hain't neither, gentlemen. A pineapple is always a hextra!"