THE DEADLY BUTTON.
We do not know whether the following incident occurred at Signor Ben Trovato's famous restaurant on Fifth Avenue or not, but feel impelled, at any rate, to quote it as a warning, on the authority of The Globe of February 19th, and The New York American:—
"Giving a well-satisfied sigh after dinner a Pittsburg man burst a button off his waistcoat. It split in two. One half hit another man, with whom he was dining, in the eye. As a result his vis-á-vis may lose the sight of his eye. The other half struck the convivo in the cheek, cutting the flesh."
This new and hitherto unsuspected possibility in ballistics must be rightly directed and also guarded against. There will be danger from the opposite side of the table at City dinners at about the tenth course and onwards, unless the wary guest can screen himself from the Corporation behind a laager of fruit-dishes and substantial ornaments.
If two gourmets fall out over the respective merits of their favourite entremets, the remedy is now easy. There is the duel by button. Each of the principals, seconded by his particular waiter, after carefully taking his opponent's range and bearings, will suspire and hit him in the eye. The more replete combatant, having the greater equatorial velocity, will probably win, but the tailor can do a good deal towards securing a flat trajectory and freedom from swerve.
At Christmas dinners, Tommy, when adequately charged, can challenge a rival amateur of plum-pudding to a rally over the dessert, instead of expending his horse-power over crackers. A little training, of course, would be needed to secure a combine fusillade.
It is only right to add that evening-dress waistcoats are henceforward to come under those sections of the Geneva Convention which relate to missiles and explosives. No soft-nosed buttons, or studs which are liable to "bunch," are to be allowed. A special regulation further requires that persons more than fifty inches in circumference, and fire-eaters who have already marked their men, shall dine by themselves, or at any rate only at a high table where there is no vis-á-vis. And page-boys are to be compelled to use hooks-and-eyes, unless they are engaged for a wedding or funeral salvo.
Zig-Zag.