"But Oi did, sor."
"How dare you tell me that with the beard you have on your face?"
"Well, ye see, sor," stammered Doyle, "there wus nine of us to one small bit uv a lookin'-glass, an' it must be thot in th' gineral confusion Oi shaved some other man's face."
"Is that you, dear?" said a young husband over the telephone. "I just called up to say that I'm afraid I won't be able to get home to dinner to-night, as I am detained at the office."
"You poor dear," answered the wife sympathetically. "I don't wonder. I don't see how you manage to get anything done at all with that orchestra playing in your office. Good-by."
"What is the matter, dearest?" asked the mother of a small girl who had been discovered crying in the hall.
"Somfing awful's happened, Mother."
"Well, what is it, sweetheart?"