MISCELLANEOUS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume V, Issue 43, 25 October 1890, Page 20

MISCELLANEOUS.

Mr Bascom : ‘ Do you know what Silas Slick expects to - be after he graduates from college?’ Mrs Backlock : ‘ Wai, I’ve heern that he has sanguinary hopes of bein’ a missionary.’ A Treasure.—Mrs Winks: ‘ What kind of a girl have you now ?’ Mrs Minks : ‘ A very nice one—ever so much nicer than the others. She doesn’t seem to object to us living in the house with her at all.’ Wanted Directions. —Busy Cabman (closing the door): ‘ Where to, sir ?' Apoplectic Gentleman (gaspihg): ‘ I can’t catch my breath. I—l teel as if I were going to die. ’ Busy Cabman : ‘ Yes, sir. Shall I drive to an undertaker or to the Morgue, sir ?’ ‘ Mamma, I know the gentleman’s name that called to see Aunt Ellie last night, and nobody told me either.’" ‘ Well, then, what is it, Bobby ?’ ‘ Why, George Don’t. I heard her say “ George, don’t,” in the parlour four or five times running. That is what his name is.’ Rose Rivington: ‘AVhat a beautiful rose!’ Smiley Basker ! ‘Yes, just like you.’ ‘Ah ! thank you, Smiley. Ugh : but here’s a horrid worm in it.’ (Equal to the occasion)— ‘Yes, that’s me ; after its heart, you see.’ She accepted him. Physician (reflectively) : ‘ H’m ! The case is one, I think,. that will yield to a mild stimulant. Let me see yourtongue, madam, if you please.’ Husband of patient (hastily): ‘Doctor, her tongue does not need any stimulat-

ing.’ Gertrude (speaking of Beatrice’s Jiance): ‘ What will Jack do now that he has inherited all this money ?’ Beatrice : ‘ Oh, I shall just make him give up all business and —and live like a gentleman, you know.’ Gertrude (quietly): ‘lt will be a great change for him.’ Mr Billus (greatly bored by the play) : ‘ Maria, that fellow is positively the worst stick I ever saw on the stage. He makes love to that pretty little countess like a hippopotamus trying to court an angel.’ Mrs Billus (much interested) : ‘He does, John, he does. But how vividly it seems to recall the days of our courtship, John.’ ‘My hands are awfully cold,’ said the pretty girl, suggestively, during the last quarter of a starlit sleigh ride. ‘ Why. didn’t you bring a muff with you ?’ asked the practical young man prosaically. ‘ I did !’ she snapped ; but shewouldn’t explain where the muff had gone to, and he hasbeen wondering ever since just what she meant.