Post-War Sportsman. "The hounds meet on the lawn to-morrow, my dear. We must give them a stirrup-cup."
Wife. "I hope the chef knows how to make it. If not I suppose claret-cup would do?"
ELIZABETH'S CHRISTMAS.
"I've always thort 'ow I'd love to 'ave a reel nice Christmas," remarked Elizabeth—"a jolly proper kind o' one, you know, 'm."
"Don't you find Christmas a pleasant time, then?" I inquired.
"Well, you see, 'm, I bin in service ever since I was turned fifteen, an' you know wot Christmas in service is. An extry tip, I will say, but a lot of extry work to go along with it—and wot washin' up! Some'ow it orl seems so different in books an' on the pictures."
She sighed as she spoke and a look that was almost human crept into the arid region of her countenance. A feeling of compunction swept over me. Was it possible that this poor simple girl concealed depths of conviviality in her nature and a genial disposition which I, in common with all her former employers, had carelessly overlooked? I will admit that this unexpected phase in Elizabeth's character touched and interested me.