---

Tommy (home from an afternoon party).—"Mamma, darling, I've got a great favor to ask of you.... Please don't ask me how I behaved!"

---

Old Lady (to fashionable beauty, who has recently married the General).—"And so that white-haired old darling is your husband! What a good-looking couple you must once have been!"

---

The General.—"I've brought you a new book, Aunt Emily, by the new French Academician. I'm told it's very good; but I've not read it myself, so I'm not sure it's quite—a—quite correct, you know."

Aunt Emily.—"My dear boy, I'm ninety-six, and I'll risk it!"

---

Sir Binks (who always piques himself on saying just the right thing).—"A—what I like so much about the milkmaid, dontcherknow, is that your husband hasn't fallen into the usual mistake of painting a lady dressed up in milkmaid's clothes! She's so unmistakably a milkmaid and nothing else, dontcherknow!"

The Painter's Wife.—"I'm so glad you think so.... He painted her from me!"

---

(Scene: The Waiting-Room of a Fashionable Physician.)

Fair Patient (just ushered in).—"What—you here, Lizzie? Why, ain't you well?"

Second Ditto.—"Perfectly, thanks! But what's the matter with you, dear?"

First Ditto.—"Oh, nothing whatever! I'm as right as possible, dearest ...!"

---

---

---

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Elder Sister.—"Oh! he proposed after supper, did he—after dancing with you all night—and you refused him? Quite right! My dear child, never believe in any proposal until the young man calls at eleven in the morning and asks you to be his wife!"

---

"Good-night, Miss Maud!"

"I'm not Miss Maud."

"Miss Ethel, I mean. Won't you shake hands with me? How ungrateful of you! and just after I've been taking you for your lovely sister, too."

---

"I see a tent. I wonder what's going on inside? Let's go and see...."

"What's the good of our going in there?"

"What's the good of our stopping out here?"

---

Tired Daughters.—"Don't you think we might go now, mamma? It's three o'clock."

Festive Mamma.—"Oh, that's not so very late, darlings.... Mayn't I have one more dance?"

---

First Tutor (waking up, and languidly helping himself to his modest glass of claret).—"Ah! I like a little sleep after dinner.... It makes one ready for one's wine!"

Second Tutor.—"Well, I like a little sleep before dinner best!"

The Master.—"Pooh! Talk to me of the after-breakfast sleep in term-time! That's what I enjoy!!"

---

Hostess.—"Won't you play us something, Mr. Spinks?"

Musical Amateur (who thinks a good deal of himself, in spite of his modesty).—"Oh, don't ask me—you are all such first-rate performers here—and you play such good music, too."

Hostess.—"Well, but we like a little variety, you know."

---

---

Lionel.—"Oh, I say, Benjamin! how splendid your wife is looking! She pays for dressing, if you like!"

Benjamin.—"Does she, my boy? I only wish she did!"

---

Teddy.—"How old are you, Aunt Milly?"

Aunt Milly (who owns to 35).—"Oh, Teddy, almost a hundred!"

Teddy.—"Auntie, I can't believe you! I'd believe you if you'd said fifty!"

---

"A southerly wind and a cloudy sky proclaim a hunting morning."

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Sir Bedivere de Vere.—"Oh, I say. How you do chaff! You never take me seriously!"

American Belle.—"You never asked me!" (No cards.)

---

Mater.—"Papa, dear, do you know a halfpenny weekly paper called Flipbutts?"

Pater.—"Never heard of it in my life!"

Mater.—"Well, it offers ninepence a column for answering questions, and they are so difficult, and we do so want to make a little money! Do leave off your novel and help us a little." (Pater can only write two novels a year, but gets £10,000 for each of them.)

---

He.—"Look! Here comes young Brummell Washington, with his bride. I wonder what on earth induced him to marry her?"

She.—"Oh, probably somebody bet him he wouldn't!"

---

Hostess.—"You must give your arm to Miss Malecho, William, and put her on your right, and make yourself as agreeable as you possibly can!"

Host.—"Why, she's a person of no consequence whatever!"

Hostess.—"Oh, yes, she is! She's very ill-natured, and tells the most horrid lies about people if they don't pay her the very greatest attention!"

---

"Auntie, darling, this is my new friend, Georgie Jones. He is nice. And isn't it funny, my birthday is the ninth of January, and his is the tenth, so you see we only just escaped being twins!"

---

He.—"I beg your pardon—but—er would you be so kind as to give me the 'G'?"

She.—"Oh, certainly." (Gives it.)

He.—"Thanks, awfully!" (Bows and proceeds on his way.)

---

Hostess.—"Oh, pray don't leave off, Herr Rosencranz. That was a lovely song you just began!"

Eminent Barytone.—"Yes, matame, bot it tit not harmonise viz de cheneral gonferzation. It is in B vlat, and you and all your vrents are talking in G. I haf a zong in F and a zong in A sharp, bot I haf no zong in G!"

Accompanist.—"Ach! Berhaps, to opliche matame, I could dransbose de aggombaniments—ja?"

---

"Look, Geoffrey! That's Lady Emily Tomlinson. Isn't she pretty?"

"Yes. And I s'pose that's Lord Emily walking with her!"

---

Professor Boreham.—"What! alone, Mrs. Highflyer? Your husband is not ill, I trust!"

Mrs. Highflyer (innocently).—"Oh no; but he was afraid he might be, if he came here!"

---

Mrs. Onslow-Pushington.—"What a very singular woman Lady Masham is, Professor! I have called on her every Wednesday this month, and the footman (who knows me perfectly) always said she was out, though Wednesday's her day at home, and there were lots of carriages at the door! She never calls on me—never! And when I bow to her, as I always do, she always looks another way, as she did just now. I must really call again next Wednesday."

---

"What's the matter, dearest? You look sad...."

"Oh, everything's going wrong. The children are ill in bed, and nurse has got the influenza, and my husband declares that ruin is staring us in the face, and I've got an unbecoming frock, and altogether I'm thoroughly depressed...."

(Breaks down.)

---

---

The Misses Tiptylte.—"Such fun! We're going to Mrs. Masham's fancy ball as Cinderella's ugly sisters—with false noses, you know!"

Miss Aquila Sharpe.—"What a capital idea! But why false noses?"

---

"Tell me, Mrs. Jones, who's that young Adonis your married daughter is looking up to so eagerly?"

"Her husband, Mrs. Snarley!"

"Dear me, you don't say so! I congratulate you.... Now I understand how you come to have such good-looking grandchildren."

---

The Professor.—"Will you give me a kiss, my dear?"

Effie (an habitually naughty girl).—"Oh, mammie.... I'll be good, I'll be good.... I promise!"

---

Hostess.—"Geoffrey, I want you to dance with that little girl!"

Geoffrey.—"Oh, well, if I must, I must ...!"

---

Brown (who was all but run over).—"Why didn't you call out sooner, you stupid ass?"

Cabby.—"I did, sir!"

Brown.—"Why didn't you call out louder, then?"

Cabby.—"I did, sir!"

---

Mrs. Gushington.—"Oh! oh! what a lovely, lovely picture! So true, so...."

Our Artist.—"Wait a bit, Mrs. Gushington—it's wrong side up.... Let me put it right first ...!" (Does so.)

Mrs. Gushington (unabashed).—"Oh! oh! oh! Why, that way it's even more lovely still!"

---

Grandpapa takes the bride in to dinner, and the rest follow anyhow.

---

Our Pet Actor (just arrived).—"By Jove—these good people all seem to know me very well—nodding and smiling"—(nods and smiles himself, right and left)—"uncommonly flattering, I'm sure—considering I've never set foot in the town before!"

Our Pet Artist (his chum).—"I'm afraid it's me they're nodding and smiling at, old man! I come every year, you know—and know every soul in the place!"

---

---

Herr Silbermund (the Great Pianist) to Mrs. Tattler.—"Ach, Lady Creichton has for bainting der most remÂrrgaple chÊnius. Look at dis! It is eqval to Felasquez!"

M. Languedor (the Famous Painter) to Miss Gushington.—"Ah! For ze music, Miladi CrÉtonne has a talent kvite exceptionnel. Listen to zat! It surpass Madame Schumann!"

---

Cook's Tourist (female).—"What's that jagged white line on the horizon, I wonder?"

Cook's Tourist (male).—"Snow, probably!"

Cook's Tourist (female).—"Ah! that's much more likely! I heard the captain saying it was Greece!"

---

"Been dancin' at all?"

"Dancin'? Not I! Catch me dancin' in a house where there ain't a smokin'-room! I'm off, directly!"

---

She.—"It's such years since we met that perhaps you never heard of my marriage?"

He.—"No, indeed! Is it—er—recent enough for congratulations?"

---

She.—"What a disagreeable thing that insomnia must be! Very trying, I think! Do you ever suffer from it, Captain Spinks?"

He.—"Oh, dear, no. I can sleep anywhere, at any time! Could go off this moment, I assure you ...!"

---

"That's where poor Mrs. Wilkins used to live!"

"Why 'poor' Mrs. Wilkins?"

"Well, her husband was killed in that horrid railway accident, don't you remember?"

"Oh, but that was months ago!"

---

---

The lady guests go in to dinner with the host and young Sir John and young Sir James and the Hon. Dick Swiveller, while the hostess naturally takes the arm of her nephew, Lord Goslin (just from Eton), so that, as the party is just two ladies short, Dr. Jones, the great historian, and Professor Brown, the famous philologist (whose wives have not been asked), bring up the rear together.

The Doctor.—"Well, Professor, we may be of less consequence than the rest, but at all events we're the oldest and the most renowned!"

---

Puzzled Hostess.—"I beg your pardon, Lord Bovril, but will you tell me whether I ought to take your arm, or Prince Sulkytoff's, or the Duke's?"

Lord Bovril (Lord-Lieutenant of the County).—"Well—a—since you ask me, I must tell you that—a—as her Majesty's representative, I am bound to claim the honor! But I hope you won't for a moment suppose that I'm fool enough—a—to care personally one rap about that sort of thing!"

---

---

Well-Preserved Elderly Coquette.—"Ah! Admiral, what a good time we had there, junketing and dancing and flirting! It all seems like yesterday! Do you remember the Carew girls, and your old flame Lucy Masters, and that poor boy Jack Lushington, who was so desperately in love with me?"

The Admiral.—"Indeed I do, dear Lady Maria! And to think of their all dying ... years ago!... And of old age, too!"

---

Lady Prattler (a confirmed first-nighter, to actor-manager).—"I congratulate you on your success last night, Mr. McStamp!... How good you were! It was all charmin'—so light, so bright, so well put on the stage!... And oh! such nice long entr'actes, you know!"

---

Housekeeper (showing visitors over historic mansion).—"This is the portrait of Queen Catherine of Medici—sister to the Venus of that name...."

---

---

Meet of the Four-in-Hand Club, Hyde Park, London.

---

Jenkins.—"Good heavens! Why, there's that brute Tomkins! The skunk! I wonder you can ask such a man to your house! I hope you haven't put him near me at dinner, because I shall cut him dead."

Hostess.—"Oh, it's all right. He told me all about you before you came in."

Jenkins.—"Did he? What did he say about me, the ruffian?"

Hostess.—"Oh, nothing much—merely what you've just been saying about him."

---

He.—"Oh, I've long given up dancing for my own sake. I only dance now with those unlucky girls that don't get partners. Who's that young lady behind you?"

She.—"My daughter."

He.—"Pray, introduce me!"

---

"Why, you're looking better already, Sir Ronald!"

"Yes, thanks to your delightful hospitality, I've had everything my doctor ordered me: 'Fresh air, good food, agreeable society, and cheerful conversation that involves no strain on the intellect!'"

---

Guardsman (gazing at the motley throng).—"Any great literary or scientific celebrities here to-night, Lady Circe?"

Lady Circe (who has taken to hunting Lions).—"No, Sir Charles. The worst of celebrities in these democratic days is that they won't come unless you ask their wives and families, too! So I ask the wives and families, and the wives and families come in their thousands, if you please, and the celebrities stay at home and go to bed."

---

Jones (a rising young British architect).—"Yes; it's a charming old castle you've bought, Mrs. Prynne, and I heartily congratulate you on being its possessor!"

Fair California Widow (just settled in the old country).—"Thanks. And now you must find me a legend for it, Mr. Jones!"

Jones.—"I'm afraid I can't manage that; but I could add a story, if that will do as well!"

---

Tommy.—"Why don't they have little shut-up houses? Why do they have open bars?"

Dorothy (who knows everything).—"Oh! that's for them to see the people, of course!"

---

Just as Stodge is about to explain the recondite subtleties of his picture to a select circle of deeply interested and delightfully sympathetic women, his wife comes in with the baby, confound it!

---

"Oh, look, grandpapa! Poor things ... they're burying the baby!"

---

"Isn't Emily Firkinson a darling, Reginald?"

"A—ahem—no doubt. I can't say much for her singing, you know!"

"Ah! but she's so good and true—a perfect angel! I've known her all my life. I want you to promise me something, Reginald."

"Certainly, my love!"

"If I should die young, and you should ever marry again, promise, oh! promise me that it shall be Emily Firkinson!"

---

Hostess (to host, after dinner).—"George, dear, how about asking Signor Robsonio and Signora Smithorelli to sing? They'll be mortally offended if we do, and they'll be mortally offended if we don't!"

---

Mrs. Bloker.—"Oh, I'm sorry to disturb you at breakfast, but I wanted to make sure of you. Mr. and Mrs. Dedleigh Boreham are stopping with me for a few days, and I want you to come and dine to-morrow, or, if you are engaged, Wednesday; or Thursday will do, or Friday or Saturday; or any day next week!"

(Mrs. Brown feebly tries to invent that they have some thoughts of sailing to Honolulu this afternoon, and that they have just lost a relative, but breaks down ignominiously.)

---

"But doesn't hearing those brilliant speeches sometimes make you change your mind?"

"My mind? Oh, often! But my vote, NEVER!!"

---

The Old Marquis of Carabas.—"What, madam! There's your lovely but penniless daughter positively dying to marry me; and here I am, willing to settle £20,000 a year on her, and give her one of the oldest titles in England, and you refuse your consent!!!! By George, madam, in my young days it wasn't the mothers who objected to men of my sort. It was the daughters themselves!!"

---

Hostess.—"So sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Green."

Visitor.—"Oh, don't mention it. The anticipation, you know, is always so much brighter than the reality."

---

Mrs. Brown.—"Oh, Mrs. Smith, do have that sweet baby of yours brought down to show my husband. He's never seen it."

Mr. Brown.—"Oh, pray, don't trouble on my account."

---

Genial Hostess.—"What, going already, Professor?... And must you take your wife away with you?"

The Professor (with grave politeness).—"Indeed, madam, I am sorry to say I MUST!"

---

---

"Pardon me! But you have passed over that picture in the corner. An old Dutch master, I think."

"Oh, that! 'The Burgermaster' it's called By Rembrank, I b'lieve. It ain't nothing much. Only a work of hart. Not one of the family, you know!"

---

The Maiden.—"Good-morning, Mr. Jones! How do you like my hyacinths?"

The Curate.—"Well, they prevent me from seeing you! I should prefer Lower cinths!"