"All right," I said. "You don't appear to be drunk, so I imagine you're trying to be funny. As your sense of humour doesn't correspond with mine I shall take great pleasure in reporting you to the station-master;" and I prepared to stalk off.
"Wait a moment, please," he said, leaning a bit forward and dropping his voice to a confidential whisper, "I'll give you a tip. You don't want a ticket at all, Sir; you can get there for nothing."
"What do you mean?" said I.
"It needn't cost you a halfpenny," he went on, smiling. "It's not many lines that have a station like this, but we——"
And then, but not until then, did I realise where I was.
"Oh," I said, "er—third return—er—Surbiton."
I don't think railway ticket-mongers ought to be allowed to have a sense of humour.
IN A GOOD CAUSE.
Mr. Punch ventures to remind his readers that the Centenary dinner of the Artists' General Benevolent Institution is to be held on May 6th, under the chairmanship of H.R.H. Prince Arthur of Connaught. This Institution devotes itself to the relief of artists, and the orphans of artists, who are in need. Mr. Punch, who is to be represented among the Stewards at the dinner by his Art Editor, begs to return his most sincere thanks for the generous gifts he has already received from his readers, and will be very grateful for any further contributions addressed to Mr. F. H. Townsend, "Punch" Office, 10, Bouverie Street, E.C.