Punch, or The London Charivari

ave such odious calumnies circulated about one behind one's back is simply too--I do not aspire to--ah--to tickle folks to death!

_Miss T._ (_soothingly_). Well, I guess there's no harm done. I didn't feel like being in any imminent danger of perishing that way in your society. You're real high-toned and ever so improving, and that's better than tickling; every time. And I want you to show me round this collection and give me a few notions. Seems to me there was considerable sand in WIERTZ; sort of spread himself around a good deal, didn't he? I presume, though, he slept bad, nights.

(_She makes the tour of the Gallery, accompanied by CULCHARD, who admires her, against his better judgment, more and more._) ... I declare if that isn't your friend Mr. PODBURY just come in! I believe I'll have to give you up to him.

_Culch._ (_eagerly_). I beg you will not think it necessary. He--he has a guide already. He does not require my services. And, to be plain, my poor friend--though, an excel