Bric à Brac.—Lady Crœsus. "Oh, what a sweet table! Where did you get it, my dear? Oh, I see here's the man's card." (Spelling the label.) "'Table—Louis Quinze.' Louis Quinzey! What a horrid name! and why hasn't he put his address?"
Mr. Boreham (who has already stayed over an hour and talked about himself the whole time). "Yes, I'm sorry to say I'm a martyr to insomnia. I've tried everything, but I cannot get sleep at night!"
His Hostess (sweetly). "Oh, but I can tell you a very simple remedy. You should talk to yourself—after going to bed!"
Miss Withers (showing photograph of herself). "I'm afraid it's rather faded."