"WHEN A MAN DOES NOT LOOK HIS BEST"
When he magnanimously consents to go on the platform at a conjuring performance, and unwonted objects are produced from his inside pockets.
Celebrated Minor Poet. "Ah, hostess, how 'do? Did you get my book I sent you yesterday?"
Hostess. "Delightful! I couldn't sleep till I'd read it!"
The Infant Prodigy has reached the middle of an exceedingly difficult pianoforte solo, and one of those dramatic pauses of which the celebrated composer is so fond has occurred. Kindly but undiscerning old Lady. "Play something you know, dearie."
