Mr. S.-H. (falling back in his chair). Damnation!
[The air is filled with a pungent matter-of-fact odour. Dora, holding her handkerchief to her nose, rushes valiantly at the offender and hurls it out of the window on to a flower-bed. The Synge spell is broken.
Mr. Punch begs to thank the seven hundred and forty-three correspondents who have so thoughtfully drawn his attention to the too familiar fact that "there's many a slip 'twixt the Cup and the Lipton."
THE BLUE RIBBON OF THE SEA.
Columbia. "YOUR HEALTH, SIR THOMAS, AND BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME."
Sir Thomas Lipton. "'BUT LEAVE A KISS WITHIN THE CUP AND [very tactfully] I'LL NOT ASK FOR WINE.'"