AWFUL TALE OF AN EEL.
A LITTLE SCENE AT BRUSSELS.
T·mpk·ns (who has just come down to breakfast). "HERE! I SAY, GARSONG! I WANT A KELKCHOSE FOR DEJEWNAY! DER KORFEE, AND DES HOOFS, YOU KNOW!"
[N.B. The Stout Party T. pokes in the ribs is a wealthy Belgian Swell!
FOR-RAD—FOR-RAD—AWAY!
Mr. Wuzzel (who the last time he weighed was Nineteen Stone, a sack of Guano, and a Barrowful of Bricks). "'FOR-RAD—AWAY!' OH, YES! THAT'S ALL VERY WELL—BUT NOT WITH THE COUNTRY(?) AS HEAVY AS THIS!"