"A red or black sash round the waist, and a navy blue straw hat with ribbon to match, would be a most attractive little frock for a warm spring day."—Manchester Guardian.
But it must be a warm spring day.
A TRIUMPH OF THINNESS.
Herbert is one of those troublesome men who are always asking why I don't what he calls "buckle to" and make some money. But his latest suggestion was his maddest, and I think that I got out of it rather neatly. For Herbert is a determined fellow from whom you can't escape until you have promised quite a lot and sometimes even had actually to do something.
"Do you want two hundred pounds?" he bounced in upon me and said.
"Who doesn't?" I replied.
"Well, here you are then. It's as easy as falling off a ladder. Only a little industry required;" and he threw a paper on to my table.
I spread it out and saw: "One Thousand Cash Prizes amounting to £1,000. First Prize £200. All you have to do is to make as many words as you can out of 'Jenkins' Glorious Gum.'"
"Thanks," I said; "this isn't intended for really thoughtful people."