Degeneracy.—"Shure an your honour, it's things was mighty diffrunt in the ould days when the ginthry be's a cummin' to the parties! 'Tis as much as three pound I'd be takin' of a night! But now—why, divil a bit beyant a few coppers ever I sees at all! Mind you, this evenin' I puts a decoy half-crown on the plate myself, and bedad if they didn't take it ov me! But wait—I'll do them the next time—for begorra I'll have it glued to the plate!"
Seasoned.—Lady Tourist. "Are the sheets well aired?"
Irish Chambermaid. "Troth, and they are, ma'am; for the sayson is three months begun, and they've been well used since!"