* * * * *
A NEW TERROR.--_Johnson._ Hullo, Thompson, you look peekish. What's
wrong?
_Thompson._ The vibration of motor-carring has got on my liver.
_Johnson._ I see, automobilious!
* * * * *
ON THE BRIGHTON ROAD.--_Cyclist_ (_to owner of dog over which he has
nearly ridden_). Take your beast out of my way! What right has he here?
_Owner._ Well, he pays seven and sixpence a year for the privilege of
perambulation, and _you_ pay nothing!
* * * * *
THE VERY OLDEST MOTOR-CAR.--The whirligig of time.
* * * * *
Illustration:
"Hi! Whip behind!"
"Yah! 'E ain't got none!"
* * * * *
Illustration: ADDING INSULT TO INJURY.--_Tramp Photographer._ "Now,
sir, just as you are for a shillin'!" [_And little Binks, who prides
himself upon his motor driving, is trying his best to get his wife to
promise not to tell anyone about the smash._]
* * * * *