BYGONE SUMMERS.
A frieze for an old gentleman’s room.
Ferguson (the politest man in New York): “When you go back, Nora, please ask the cook if there is any cold meat in the house.” (Exit Nora.)
To the company: “I beg you to excuse our maid. These accidents happen to her somewhat overfrequently. She was bred, I believe, a dairymaid, but had to leave that employment because of her inability to handle the cows without breaking off their horns.”
THIS IS THE SEASON WHEN EVEN THE SNOW MAN HAS A HEART.
