The following Indexes have been compiled by a gentleman who is rather strong in that useful, but much-snubbed and little-read, department of literature. They are intended to keep in countenance the well-known "face," which is said to be "the Index of the Mind."
Cold Soup is the Index of a Bad Dinner.
A Bang of the door is the Index of a Storm.
A "Button off" is the sure Index of a Bachelor.
An Irish Debate is the Index of a Row.
A Popular Singer is the Index of a Cold.
A bright Poker is the Index of a Cold Hearth.
A Servant standing at the door is the Index of a Wasteful House.
A Shirt with ballet-girls is the Index of "a Gent."
The Painted Plate is the Index of the Hired Fly.
Duck, or Goose, is the Index of "a Small Glass of Brandy."
A Baby is the Index of a Kiss.
A Toast (after dinner) is the Index of Butter.
Cold Meat is, frequently, the Index of a Pudding.
A Favour is, more frequently, the Index of Ingratitude.
A Governess is the Index of suffering, uncomplaining, Poverty.
A Puseyite is the Index of a Roman Catholic.
Home is the Index Expurgatorius of Liberty; and lastly,
Mismanagement is the Index (at least the only one published yet) of the Catalogue of the British Museum.
A Question for a Debating Society.
Whether, in the event of Mr. Sands being subject, like Amina, to fits of somnambulism, it would be likely that he would walk in his sleep head downwards with his feet on the ceiling?
A Popular Tax.—If Mr. Gladstone taxes any kind of license, he ought to tax the license of Counsel.
A Younger Son.—The Blade of the "Cold Shoulder."