A Horrible Business.
Master Butcher. "Did you take old Major Dumbledore's ribs to No. 12?" Boy. "Yes, sir." Master Butcher. "Then, cut Miss Wiggles's shoulder and neck, and hang Mr. Foodle's legs until they're quite tender!"
Little Girl (to Newsvendor, from whom she has just purchased the latest war special). "'Ere's your paper! Father says, if you don't mind 'e 'd rather 'ave the bill, 'cos there's more news in it."
Old Lady (from the country). "Well, I never! And to think burglary should have become a regular respectable trade!"
A Speculator's Apology.—You can't make the pot boil without bubbles.
Table-Turning.—Looking for a train in Bradshaw.
