Mrs. Fitzpudgit. "What is it, dear?" Mr. F. "Nothing, my love. Only another puncture."
"APPRECIATIONS," LOCAL
Vicar's Wife. "I see, Mrs. Fieldsend, that Mary is home again."
Mrs. Fieldsend. "Yes, m'm. You see, she has been a year at Crowe Rectory, and eighteen months at Exholme Vicarage, and now we want her to go into a gentleman's family!"
Family Jars.—Joan. "The idear of Susan's askin' John to William's funeral, after the way 'e'd beyaved! I shouldn't certainly ever dream of askin' 'im to yours!"
Darby. "What! Then all I can say is, I should be very much offended if you didn't!"