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Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper (London, England), Sunday, October 25, 1891

Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper (London, England), Sunday, October 25, 1891.jpg

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<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> HOSTESS : I am so glad to see you have brought your music. Will you give us a song at once ? - Modest Man : Delighted, I'm sure, but I'm sorry to say I have got a very bad cold, so I'm rather hoarse. - Hostess : Oh, never mind, I daresay nobody will notice it. <a> Moonshine </a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> BOSOM FRIEND : How I do hate girls getting engaged ! You haven't uttered a sentence that hasn't begun with a he for the last half hour. <a> Moonshine </a> </j>

<j> <t> FRENCH AND ENGLISH ( as zee are spoke at ze country 'ouse ).</t> Hostess : Oh - er - j'espair ker voos avvy troovy votre - votre - er - er - votre collar stud, Barrong ? - M. le Baron : Oh, I zank you, yes ! I find 'eem on my chest of trowsers ! <a> Punch </a> </j>

<j> <t> MODEST AMBITION. </t> The Squire ( to his eldest son, just home form the 'Varsity ) : Well, my boy, and what have you settled to be ? - The Squire's Son : Just a plain country gentleman like you, father ! <a> Punch </a> </j>

<j> <t> THE UPS AND DOWNS OF THE WORLD. </t> Kate : Well, dear, how have you been since I saw you last ? - Maude : OH, I've been dreadfully knocked up. - Kate : I thought so ; you look so pulled down. <a> Fun </a> </j>

<j> <t> A GAEL OF WIND. </t> A Highland piper. <a> Fun </a> </j>

<j> <t> A ROW. </t> First Irate Lady : I suppose as my 'husband is the same as yourn ! - Second Ditto ( with withering sarcasm ) : The same, mum ? No, mum ; let's 'ope not, mum. I wasn't aware as we had only one 'usband between us ! <a> Fun </a> </j>

<j> <t> APPROPRIATE HEAD-GEAR FOR PRINTERS' BOYS. </t> Small caps. <a> Ariel. </a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> UNREASONABLE ! - Wife : Going to Mrs. Damslow's party ? Why, of course I'm not. I haven't a dress to my back ! - Husband : And only yesterday, you were complaining you were not in the fashion. <a> Judy </a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> PERU is now about to supply the greater part of the world with petroleum. The revenue from this illuminant will be a fitting complement to the country's night-rates. <a> Moonshine </a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> A MAN will not submit to be called a puppy, a hound, or a cur, but if he is pronounced a " sad dog, " he accepts the stigma as though it were a compliment. <a> Judy </a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> IF a man fell into a pond and you pulled him out, what champagne would you recommend for him ? - Dry Him On a Pole. - [ Eh ? Oh ! Dry Monopole. I see ! <a> Ariel </a> </j>

<j> <t> WIDE AWAKE ! </t> Nurse ( singing by cradle ) : Hark ! hark ! the dogs do ----.-- Baby ( fin-de-siecle ) : Bark, do they ? And, as it it wasn't bad enough, you immediately begin to imitate them. How the Dickens d'you think I'm going to get to sleep ? <a> Judy </a> </j>

<j> <t> RECUPERATING. </t> Stuffer : I wonder what the matter is with the De Courtneys ? They have stopped asking me to dinner. - Dash-away : They must have got hungry themselves. <a> Funny Cuts </a> </j>

<j> <t> IN THE DRAWING ROOM. </t> Cassandra : Why, I haven't seen you at a dance for ever so long. - Ajax : No ; the fact is, I'm only doing dinners this season, don't you know ! <a> Fun </a> </j>

<j> <t> COUPLET BY A CYNIC. </t> " Poetry does not sell ! " cry plaintive pleaders. Alas ! most modern poetry does - its readers ! <a> Punch </a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> THE influenza is in New York. Of course, it will come here again ; and a nice blow that will be. <a> Moonshine </a> </j>

<j> <t> A CATCHPENNY AFFAIR. </t> An automatic machine. <a> Funny Folks. </a> </j>

<j> <t> AN " OPEN " QUESTION. </t> Removing the Bloomsbury gates. <a> Funny Folks </a> </j>

<j> <t> NEGOTIATIONS OPENED. </t> Lord Hauntwing : Will you do me the favour to sup with me ? - Miss Secondrow : Er - well - what is the bill of fare ? <a> Fun </a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> A GOOD action is never thrown away. That is why we find so few of them. <a> Pick-Me-Up </a> </j>

<j> <t></t> <a></a> </j>

<j> <t>[Untitled]</t> HE : Do you wish to make a fool of me ? - She : No. Nature has kindly provided for you ! <a> Pick-Me-Up </a> </j>

<j> <t> A SAD STORY. </t> She : I haven't seen you for five years, Mr. Barker. How's that little romance of yours with Miss Robinson ? - Bark : Miss Robinson is no more. - She : What - dead ? - Barker : No -married. - She : Ha, ha ! You are still friends, though ? - Barker : No. She married me. <a> Funny Folks. </a> </j>

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