12. A HISTORICAL CHARADE
My first, if foolishly or rashly taken,
May mar the future prospects of your life.
My second, by her fickle lord forsaken
(Sad type of many a gentle, patient wife),
May toil and moil to feed his many babies,
While he goes flirting off with other ladies.
The thrifty monarch of a former age
My whole a place in Britain’s history fills.
Immortalised in Shakespeare’s magic pages
As one who’d fain reform his tailor’s bills!
No. XIX.—A PRECOCIOUS BOY
This is the picture of the first prize boy at a baby show. The judge, noticing the position of one chubby fist, said to the proud mother, “Your lad Tommy likes such tit-bits.”
To his amazement the baby, removing the comforting hand, replied in eight words composed of exactly the same letters, “So to-day, sir, . .... .. ...... .....” Can you complete the sentence?
No. XX.—AGAINST THE COLLAR
The lady who is sitting at the back of this overloaded waggonette cries out, in her sympathy with the struggling horse, “This big load quite hinders his pull.”