"Gad, James, if—if dirt were t-t-trumps, what a hand you would have!"
A Weighty Politician.
A personal bon mot, perpetrated at the expense of the late Sir William Harcourt, is harmless enough:
"You must admit that he is a most weighty politician," insisted one of his admirers.
"A weighty politician!" said an irreverent one. "I should think so! When he moves to the east the west tips up."
Religiously Personal.
"Sir," said a little blustering man to a religious opponent—"I say, sir, do you know to what sect I belong?"
"Well, I don't exactly know," was the answer, "but to judge from your make, shape, and size, I should say you belong to a class called the in-sect."
A Beggar's Benison.
An Irish beggarwoman, following a gentleman who had had the misfortune to lose his nose, kept exclaiming: