How happy could I be in heather,
At the grouse gaily blazing away!
But then, somehow, I can't touch a feather,
So 'tis better at Brighton to stay.
* * * * *
PRO BONO.--There is one first-rate joint that comes to table which is
the Cockney's prime aversion--the h-bone.
* * * * *
[Illustration: A MODEL MODEL.
(_The artist is rather shy, and has left his model to do the honours of
his studio._) "From whom did Mr. M'Gilp paint that head?"
"From yours obediently, madam. I sit for the 'eads of all 'is 'oly men."
"He must find you a very useful person."
"Yes, madam. I order his frames, stretch his canvases, wash his brushes,
set his palette, and mix his colours. All _he's_ got to do is just to
_shove 'em on!_"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Tripper._ "'Ere! 'Arf a mo'! Where's the change out o'
that bob I gave yer?"
_Bystander._ "Don't worry about it, cocky; ain't you got the bloomin'
'oss as security!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Holiday Driver (returning from a pic-nic)._ "Excuse me,
sir, but can you see anything wrong with the 'arness of this 'ere
'orse?"]
* * * * *