  On this subject much nonsense has been written. They are quite as suitable (perhaps more so than otherwise) to the cottage as to the castle. The cottage need not have a name spelt with a Celtic series of dissonant consonants. A few hints may be advisable to the numerous "Lady Helps" at present in the market. A Lady may efficiently help the mistress of the household to snub her husband, by adroitly echoing (and improving) the said mistress's remarks of a personal character. A Lady may help the Cook to produce an original dinner, by suggesting fresh combinations, which will make the said Cook indignant, and even furious. A Lady may help the Butler effectually, by decanting the '45 port, and shaking it a little first as you would Daffy's Elixir. A Lady may help the visitors to the house by reading all the letters that may chance to be thrown aside, and taking advantage of any private intelligence they contain. Mistress. "Oh, Gwendolen, whatever have you done!" A Lady may help the master of the house by a flirtation in the library, while the mistress is away on a round of visits. A Lady may help the daughters to quiet talks in the Park with ambitious Curates. A Lady may possibly help the son and heir to—herself. You see, there are ladies and ladies, as there are fagots et fagots, and Mr. Punch has his suspicions of the Lady Helps of the future. Advice to Servants of All Work.—"Learn to labour and to wait." Happy Thought.—Husband (devoted to spouse and bridge). What shall we christen the little dear? Wife (still more devoted). I've been thinking—why not—Bridget? Husband (delighted). By all means. For luck. "Hard Lines."—Mistress (to former Cook). "Well, Eliza, what are you doing now?" Ex-Cook. "Well, mum, as you wouldn't give me no character, I've been obliged to marry a soldier!" Things one would rather have left Unsaid.—Hostess (who has just sung). "Are you quite sure you don't sing, Captain Lovell?" Captain Lovell. "I assure you—a—I've no voice whatever. A—unfortunately, I—I'm a listener!" Intuition.—Ethel (to Mary, her bosom friend, who has been admiring the diamonds, and now hears for the hundredth time how it all came about). "I don't know exactly what it was; but somehow I felt, from the moment we met last night, that he meant to propose. Something about him—something in his voice——" Mary. "Ah, I see, there was the true ring in it!" "Oh, please, 'm, th' noo paarson's called to see you." |
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