N. A. (after singeing). “Shampoo, Sir? Good for the ’Air, Sir.” Jones. “Thank you. Yes.”
N. A. “Your Moustaches curled?” Jones. “Please.”
N. A. “May I give you a Friction?” Jones. “Thank you.”
N. A. “Will you try some of our—”
Manager (who has just sighted his man, in Stage whisper). “You Idiot! He’s a Subscriber!!”
A SUNDAY DINNER.
Father of Family (who has accidentally shot the leg of a Fowl under the table). “Mind t’Dog doesn’t get it!”
Young Hopeful (triumphantly). “All right, Feyther! I’ve gotten me Foot on it!”
