IN LIGHTER VEIN.

Press, Volume LXIII, Issue 12593, 8 September 1906, Page 7

IN LIGHTER VEIN.

They have a adaptation of means to an end in tihe United States of America which is engaging to the slower Briton. Wβ read that ''both political parties in. Kansas have been n6kod to incorporate in their platforms a plank demanding tliat shirts should be made an inch longer in order to use up tho sarplue cotton crop."

They had saved the price of a good diinnor each and wero watching the clouds of cigarette smoke cuxl into the air as they louuged on the cushioned settees of the restaurant and eked out their coffee as long as possible. "I toll you," said Jones, there's an indescribable sense of luxury in, lying in bed aud ringing one's bell for one's valet." "You got a valet?" exclaimed Jones's friend, in surprise. "No," replied Jones; "'but I've got a bell."

Mr Marion Crawford recently gave a dinner in. Romt>, and during the dinner the talk turner! on Venice. 'TheTo is a young American, girl,' , Mr Crawford said, "whom I met one bright October morning in Sorrento. She told mc that eho was touring Itally with ber lather. She said her father had liked all the Italian cities, but especially he had liked. Venice. 'All, Venice, to be sure/ eaid I. ' I can readily undeTstniid that your father would prefer Venice, with its gondolas, and St. Mark's and Michael Angeles-—' 'Oh, no, , ■■said the young; lady; 'it wasn't that. But lie could sit in the hotel, you know, and fish out of t!h© window. , •'

Beyond doubt, the gambling evil hnp •eacbed a frightful stage (wnitee "Oriel in the "Argus"). Mr Argylo, M.L.A., that small boys gamble for bnt'oiie, and, u-lien they lose, cut the but--o!i3 off their coatii in ordeo , to. meet heir debts of lionoirr. One can imagine vow impressively the results of tliie '.ivful vice could Ik> ehown in a meloIrama at tbo Theatre Royal:— Scene. — Ancient baronial hall. Lady Wre de Vere de Btitfonholo seated be^-

fore, an empty •worirbaeket with tears streaming down her cheeks. Enter her •on, Lord Percy Sans-bouton, his clothing tied together with string. Lord Percy (sinking on ono knee, and holding hie waistcoat » together with his right hand).—Mother, mother. I am ruined I Lady V—What? Not buttons again P Ijord P.—Mother, it is too true. I have been playing pitch and toes with Little Lord Fauntleroyj and even tho eleeve buttons of my sailor suit are gone! Lady V.—Oh! what, what is to be done! I have robbed all.the family livery to minister to your vices. The page-, boy is positively hideous witih safetypine. Your poor sister. Lady Clare, has long since given mc all the ornamental buttons that she received ac keepsakes from the Japanese ofiSoere. Society is beginning to scoff at mc as the buttonless baToness!

Lord P. (in a hoars© whisper).— Mother! (He points mysteriously to a wardrobe. LadyJT. steal* furtively to it, and the eound of scissors is heard. Lady V. comes back, and presses a package into Lord P.'e hand. Exit Lord P. Lady V. again seats herself at table, weeping copiously. The stage becomes flooded with teare. Enter Lord Vere de Vere de Buttonhole, splashing through, the brine.) JLoTil V.—The batJiroom'e leaking again! "Where are my eparo trousers? (Rushes to wardrobe, clutching iiis trousers with both, hands. Comes out with , -a face of horror.) My Gard, lam undone! I da,re not show myself in the street, for fear I should bo gaoled! Woman, the buttons of my Sunday pants? Lady V. (falling prostrate, but- — grrippinc: herself firmly at tho waist). —Henry, Henry! Forgive mc! I did it for Our Boy! (Curtain.)