FAR-EASTERN ENGLISH.
A returning circumnavigator reports that the passengers on the boat—a Japanese liner—coming from Yokohama to Honolulu were apprised of the fact that they were to have two Thursdays, one immediately following the other (and you can have no notion how long a second Thursday can be), owing to the crossing of the imaginary but very boring line which divides the two hemispheres. The official notice came from the captain's own hand. The ship had an American purser and an American chief steward, and there were many English on board, but the gallant little commander preferred to tackle the linguistic problem unaided. On Wednesday, therefore, the board had this announcement pinned to it:—"As she will be crossed the meridian of 180 to-morrow, so to-morrow again." Could, after the first blow, anything be clearer?
Meanwhile from Siam come the glad tidings that the British residents in Bangkok are to have a new paper. That the editorial promises are rich the following extracts sufficiently prove:—
"The news of English we tell the latest, writ in perfect style and earliest. Do a murder get commit, we hear and tell of it. Do a mighty chief die, we publish it in borders of sombre. Staff has each one been college and writes like the Kipling and the Dickens. We circulate every town and extortionate not for advertisements. Buy it."
Rather a Tall Order.
"For Sale.
Grey flannel suit made by English tailor in January last, unworn Rs. 50; chest 39, height 8ft. 5 inches."—Indian Paper.
"Small (Elephant) Pram, as new, extending back, 6 gns."—Local Paper.
Thanks; but we always take our elephant in the side-car.