Punch, or the London Charivari, page 9 by Various Authors
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walking about the house last night all by yourself?" Aunt Angela exclaimed in horror.
Miss Brown shook her grey head. "Oh, no, not by myself. Our sympathetic young friend had a touch of insomnia himself for once and was good enough to keep me company." She smiled sweetly in my direction. "He was most entertaining. I've been chuckling ever since."
PATLANDER.
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[Illustration: Urchin (_who has been "moved on" by emaciated policeman_). "AIN'T YER GOT A COOK ON YOUR BEAT?"]
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OUR SPARTAN EDITORS.
"WANTED: THE CAT. By Horatio Bottomley."--_John Bull._
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MARDI GRAS.
(_With the British Army in France._)
"Have you reflected, mon chou," said M'sieur Bonneton, complacently regarding the green carnations on his carpet-slippers, "that to-morrow is Mardi Gras?"
"I have," replied Madame shortly.
"One may expect then, _ma petite,_ that there will be _crêpes_ for dinner?"
"With eggs at twelve francs the dozen?" said Madame decidedly. "One may not."
On any other matter M'sieur would probably have taken his wife's decision as final, but he had a consuming passion for _crêpes_, and was moreover a diplomat.
"_La vie chère!_" he said sadly; "it cuts at the very vitals of hospitality. With what pleasure I could have presented myself to our amiable neighbours, the Sergeant-Major Coghlan and his estimable wife, and said, 'It is the custom in France for all the world to eat _crêpes_ on Mardi Gras. Accept these, then, made by Madame Bonneton herself, who in the making of this national delicacy is an incomparable artist.' But when eggs are twelve francs the dozen"--he shook his head gloomily--"generous sentiments must perish."
Madame perceptibly softened.
"Perhaps, after all, I might persuade that miser Dobelle to sell me a few at ten francs the dozen," she murmured; and M'sieur knew that diplomacy had won another notable v