There is no accounting for tastes. We should have thought it suggested the Missing Link.
EVICTED.
(A common scandal, inviting the attention of the Government.)
I was amazed the other day to hear that my landlord had called to see me. Hitherto our intercourse had been by letter and we had had heated differences on the subject of repairs. His standpoint seemed to be that landlords were responsible for repairs only to lightning conductors and weathercocks. My house possesses neither of these desirable adjuncts.
I moved an armchair so that no one sitting in it could fail to see the dampest wall and ordered him to be shown in.
He was a most benevolent-looking old gentleman, and I felt I had done him an injustice in regarding him as a property shark.
"Glad to see you," he said, shaking me warmly by the hand.
"Do sit down," I said. "That chair is the most comfortable. Don't be afraid. At that distance from the wall the damp won't affect you."