_Waiter._ "Paysir? Yessir--Whataveyeradsir?"
_Matter-of-fact old gentleman_ (_who has been reading the "Quarterly" on
"Food and its adulterations"_). "Had? why, let me see: I've had some
horsetail soup, spiced with red-lead and shop-sweepings: a plate of
roast cow, and cabbage boiled with verdigris: a crust of plaster of
Paris, baked with alum and bone-dust: half-a-pint of porter brewed from
quassia and strychnine: and a cup of charred liver, annatto, and other
unknown ingredients."
[_Exit waiter for a straight-waistcoat, and a stomach-pump._]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Dolly._ "Please, Miss Sharp, mamma says, have you
_really_ left your songs at home?"
_Miss Sharp._ "Yes, dear. Why?"
_Dolly._ "Well, papa says 'it sounds too good to be true'!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: EUREKA!--_Isaacstein_ (_late of Whitechapel, showing old
friend over bathroom in new house_). "What am I goin' to do with it?
Vell, you see, I've always rather wanted a place where I could keep
goldfish!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Juvenile._ "Uncle!"
_Uncle._ "Now then, what is it? This is the fourth time you've woke me
up, sir!"
_Juvenile._ "Oh! Just put a few coals on the fire, and pass the wine,
that's a good old chap."]
* * * * *