[Illustration: MUCH ADO.
“Mumma-a-a! Boo-hoo! We’s crying! Tum up ’tairs an’ see what’s de matter
wiv us!”]
[Illustration: A SKETCH FROM LIFE.
_Chorus_ (_slow music_). “We’ve a rare old--fair old--rickety Crew!”]
[Illustration: “_Are_ you comin’ ’ome?”
“I’ll do ellythik you _like_ in reasol, M’ria--(_hic_)--Bur I _won’t_
come ’ome.”]
[Illustration: _Importunate Street Urchin_ (_for the tenth time_). “Gi’
us a Copper. Sir! Gi’ us a Copper!”
_Testy Individual_ (_losing patience_). “Oh, go to”--(substitutes a
milder form)--“blazes!”
_Street Urchin_. “Sure thin an’ I would in this bastly could weather, if
I was only certain o’ comin’ back again!” [_Individual’s testiness
overcome and Urchin rewarded_.]]
[Illustration: “NICE FOR THE VISITORS.”
(_Sketch Outisde a Fashionable Hotel_.)]
[Illustration: _Coster_ (_to acquaintance, who has been away for some
months_). “Wot are yer bin doin’ all this time?”
_Bill Robbins_ (_who has been “doing time”_). “Oh, I’ve bin Wheelin’ a
bit, Ole Man--Wheelin’ a bit!”]
[Illustration: THE GREAT PRIZE FIGHT.
_Johnnie_ (_who finds that his Box, £20, has been appropriated by “the
Fancy”_). “I beg your pardon, but this is _my_ Box!”
_Bill Basford_. “Oh, is it? Well, why don’t you tike it?”]
[Illustration: _Fussy Old Lady_. “Now _don’t_ forget, Conductor. I _want
the Bank of England_.”
_Conductor_. “_All_ right, Mum.” (_Aside_.) “She _don’t_ want _much_, do
she, Mate?”]
[Illustration: INFORMATION.
_First ’Arry_ (_with newspaper_). “I say, ’Arry, you’se a Toff. What’s a
‘Collar Day’ at Court?”
_Second ’Arry_. “Donno ’xactly. Suppose it’s a Saturday when things come
’ome from the Wash.”
_First ’Arry_. “Oh, I see--‘Clean Collar Day’!”]
[Illustration: _Little Guttersnipe_ (_who is getting quite used to
posing_). “Will yer want me ter tike my Bun down?”]
[Illustration: “EVERYTHING COMES TO HIM THAT ‘WAITS.’”]
[Illustration: THE HEALING ART.
_Doctor_. “Did you give the Children the Physic I sent last night?”
_Fond Mother_. “Yes, Sir,”
_Doctor_. “And how are they to-day?”
_Fond Mother_. “Well, the little un’s very bad to be sure. But it don’t
seem to ’ave done the t’other un’ no ’Arm as yet!”]
[Illustration: _Bill Sykes_ (_reading_). “There are now ten men of the
Bechuanaland Border Police in the whole Bechuanaland Protectorate, four
of whom are doing Customs Duty.”]
[Illustration: _Street Serio_ (_singing_). “Er--yew will think hov me
and Love me has in dies hov long ago-o-o!”]
[Illustration: _Old Jones_. “Yes, my Boy, _there’s_ Wine for you, eh? I
bought Ten Pounds of it the other day.”
_Brown_. “What a _lot_ you must have got!”]
[Illustration: First Newspaper Boy. “Hullo, Bill! Who’s ’e?”
Second Newspaper Boy. “I suppose ’e’s the North Pole as ’as just been
Discovered!”]
[Illustration: “What Bait are yer usin’, Billie?”
“Cheese.”
“What are yer tryin’ ter catch--Mice?”]
[Illustration: A BI-METALLISTIC DISCUSSION.
_Jim_. “What’s this ere ‘Bi-metallism,’ Bill?”
_Bill_ (_of superior intelligence_). “Well, yer see, Jim, it’s heither a
Licensed Wittlers’ or a Teetotal Dodge. The Wages’ll be paid in Silver,
and no more Coppers. So you can’t get no arf-pint nor hanythink under a
Sixpence or a Thrip’ny. Then you heither leaves it alone, and takes to
Water like a Duck, or you runs up a score.”
_Jim_. “Ah! But if there ain’t no more Coppers, ’ow about the ’Buses and
the Hunderground Rileway?”
_Bill_ (_profoundly_). “Ah!” [Left sitting.]]
[Illustration: _First Genius to Second Genius_. “Why on Earth do you do
your Hair in that absurd Fashion, Smith?”]
[Illustration: “Oi tell yez Oi will _not_ clane out me Cell. Oi’d lave
the Jail furrst!”]
[Illustration: _Small Voice from under the Bed_. “_No_, I will _not_
come out! I tell you, once and for all.”