Lord Boreham (from behind his Newspaper). "Pray consider yourself excused this evening, Mr.——Mr.——a—I find I don't even know you by sight!"
[Which is quite true!
'ARRY AND THE NEW WOMAN.
Dear Charlie,—'Ow are you, old shipmate? I've bin layin' low for a time.
'Ard years these 'ere Nineties, my nibs, yus, and bizness 'as bin fur from prime.
All grind and no gay galoot, Charlie, of late 'as bin my little lot;
An' between you and me and the post, I think most things is going to pot!
It's Newness wot's doing it, Charlie! "Lor! that's a rum gospel," sez you.