Punch, or the London Charivari

A Chirpy Little Man with a red chin-tuft (_to a female acquaintance). Well, how are you_ feelin', eh?

The Acquaintance. Oh, all right, thenks--so long as I keep still. There's more waves than it looked from the Pier.

The Chirpy Man. Waves? These ain't on'y ripples. When we're off the Foreland, now, you may talk!

The Acq. If it's worse than it is now, I shan't.

The Chirpy Man. Why, you ain't afraid o' being queer already? I'm reg'lar enjoyin' it, I am. You don't object to me samplin' a cigar? You enjoy the flavour of a smoke more when you're on the water, yer know.

First Girl. I can see our lodgings; and there's Ma out on the balcony--see? Let's wave our handkerchiefs to her.

Second Girl. Ma, indeed! Did you ever know Ma stir off the sofa after her dinner? I wouldn't make myself ridiklous waving to somebody else's Ma, if I was you!

First G