[Illustration]
You who look at home so charming--
Angel, goddess, nothing less--
Do you know you're quite alarming
In that dress?
Such a garb should be forbidden;
Where's the grace an artist loves?
Think of dainty fingers hidden
In those gloves!
Gloves! A housemaid would not wear them,
Shapeless, brown and rough as sacks,
Thick! And yet you often tear them
With that axe!
Worst of all, unblacked, unshiny--
Greet them with derisive hoots--
Clumsy, huge! For feet so tiny!
Oh, those boots!
* * * * *
[Illustration: SCENE--_Verandah of Swiss Hotel_
_Brown_ (_finishing very lengthy account of Alpine adventure_).
"And then, Miss Jones, then, just as dawn was breaking, I heard the
voices of the guides above me, and I knew that I was saved--actually
saved! My feelings, as I realised this, may be more easily imagined than
described!"
_Miss Jones_ (_fervently_). "Thank Heaven!"
[_And Brown fondly imagined she was alluding to his escape_.
]
* * * * *
[Illustration: CAUTIOUS
_Visitor_ (_at out-of-the-way Inn in the North_). "Do you know anything
about salmon-poaching in the neighbourhood?"
_Landlady_ (_whose son is not above suspicion_). "Eh--no, sir. Maybe
it's a new style of cooking as we haven't heard of in these parts, as
you see, sir, we only do our eggs that way; and"--(_brightening
up_)--"if you like 'em, I can get you a dish at once!"]
* * * * *