Part 10 (2/2)

_Costermonger._ Rot my taturs.

_Dramatic Author._ Steal my French Dictionary.

_Actor._ I'll be hissed.

_Tailor._ Cut me out. Cook my goose.

_Linendraper._ Soil my silks. Sell me off.

_Grocer._ Squash my figs. Sand my sugar. Seize my scales.

_Baker._ Knead my dough. Scorch my m.u.f.fins.

_Auctioneer._ Knock me down.

”THE PLAYERS ARE COME!”--_First Player_ (_who has had a run of ill-luck_). I'm regularly haunted by the recollection of my losses at baccarat.

_Second Player._ Quite Shakespearian! ”Banco's ghost.”

SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR.--(_From the Literary Club Smoking-room._) _Cynicus._ I'm waiting till my friends are dead, in order to write my reminiscences?

_Amicus._ Ah, but remember. ”_De mortuis nil nisi bonum._”

_Cynicus._ Quite so. I shall tell nothing but exceedingly good stories about them.

A CONTRADICTION.--In picture exhibitions, the observant spectator is struck by the fact that works hung on the line are too often below the mark.

A ”LIGHT” REPAST.--A feast of lanterns.

[Ill.u.s.tration: R. A. GEMS.--_Fair Amateur_ (_to carpenter_). ”My picture is quite hidden with that horrid ticket on it. Can't you fix it on the frame?” _Carpenter._ ”Why, you'll spoil the frame, mum!”]

[Ill.u.s.tration: _Jones._ ”Do you drink between meals?”

_Smith._ ”No. I eat between drinks.”

_Jones._ ”Which did you do last?”

_Smith._ ”Drink.”

<script>