[Illustration: THE NEW SCHOOL.--_Uncle_ (_who is rather proud of his cellar_). "Now George, my boy, there's a glass of champagne for you--don't get such stuff at school, eh? eh? eh?" _George._ "H'm--awfully sweet! Very good sort for ladies--but I've arrived at a time of life, when I confess I like my wine _dry_!" (_Sensation._)] * * * * * [Illustration: PLEASANT!--_Lord Reginald Sansdenier_ (_in answer to confidential remark of his host_). "Twenty thousand pounds worth of plate on the table, Sir Gorgius? I wonder you ain't afraid of being robbed!" _Sir Gorgius Midas._ "_Robbed_, my lord! Good 'evens! I'm sure yer lordship's too honnerable heven to _think_ of sich a thing!"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Farmer._ "I say, John, what do you call a pineapple--a fruit or a vegetable?" _Waiter._ "A pineapple hain't neither, gentlemen. A pineapple is always a hextra!"] * * * * * DINING AL FRESCO (_Extract from an Earl's Courtier's Notebook_) 6 P.M.--Come down early, to get a table. Can't. All the tables booked a week in advance. Very angry. Manager says he'll see what can be done for me--later on. Fairly satisfied. He had better! 7 P.M.--In state of heat. Have a fair appetite. Ask for table. "What table?" "The one promised me--later on." "Very sorry, but they are all engaged." Awfully angry. Explain that I am a person of some importance. Can do the place a great deal of good if I do have a table, and _vice versâ_. Manager desolated. See everybody else stuffing, drinking, and enjoying themselves. How they can have the heart! And _I_ table-less! But, no matter, a time will come. I'll write to "the leading journal" and denounce everything and everybody. 7.15 P.M.--Explosively wrathful. At last! Ha! ha! Got a table. But at the back somewhere. Strong smell of cooking. Distant echo of a band. Exceedingly annoyed. Have tasted _hors d'oeuvres_. Sardines decent. 7.20 P.M.--_Bonne Femme_ soup good. Have ordered champagne cup. Still annoyed. 7.30 P.M.--Salmon mayonnaise distinctly excellent. Good idea to have cold dinner. Champagne cup well brewed. Don't notice the smell of cooking. Can hear the band. Nice band. 7.40 P.M.--_Pâté de fois gras en aspic._ Capital Cold joint. First-rate. Salad artistically mixed. Second champagne cup as good as first. After all, place of table not so bad. [Illustration] * * * * * [Illustration: A TRUE ARTIST.--_Mamma_ (_to Tommy, who has been allowed for a few minutes to wait at table_). "Now, Tommy, kiss me, and go to bed." _Tommy_ (_to footman_). "Do _you_ ever kiss the missus, Charles?" _Footman._ "No, sir!" _Tommy._ "Then _I_ won't!"] * * * * * THE MENU A LA MODE