The other boys who were at supper are now presented to me. One is about eight, the other not more than six.
"These are HERBIE and JACK," says their mother, who ought to know. Thank Heaven, they are not my pupils!
Mrs. BRISTOL MERCHANT horrifies me by saying—
"I thought it would be so nice, when you were teaching ERNIE, if HERBIE and JACK could be taught too! And after lessons you will be able to take them such nice long walks in the neighbourhood! It's really very pretty country, Mr.—I forget your name."
Oh, certainly, the President was quite right. She is very uncultivated. That ever I was born to cultivate her—or her precious offspring! But was I? Time must show.
SARTORIAL EUPHUISMS.
"MEASUREMENTS ABOUT THE SAME AS THEY USED TO BE, SNIPPE?"
"YES, SIR. CHEST A TRIFLE LOWER DOWN, SIR, THAT'S ALL!"