_Inspector._ I will ask them a few questions. (_To children._) What is a Red Indian's wife called? (_Many hands up_). Tell me. _Scholar._ A squaw, sir. _Inspector._ What is a Red Indian's baby called? (_Silence. At last a boy volunteers._) Well, my boy? _Boy._ Please, sir, a squaker! * * * * * [Illustration: A CAUTION TO LITTLE BOYS AT THIS FESTIVE SEASON _Mamma._ "Why, my dearest Albert, what are you crying for?--so good, too, as you have been all day!" _Spoiled Little Boy._ "Boo-hoo! I've eaten so--m-much be-eef and t-turkey, that I can't eat any p-p-plum p-p-pudding!" [_Oh, what a very greedy little fellow._] * * * * * A MODERN PARIS.--_Schoolmaster._ Now, boys, supposing that the goddesses Diana, Venus, and Juno were to appear before you, what would you do with this apple? _Brown Minimus._ Please sir, I'd eat it before they asked for it? * * * * * A POINT UNSETTLED IN HISTORY.--_Lucy_ (_to her elder sister who has just been relating a thrilling episode in the life of William Tell_). And was the little boy allowed to _eat_ the apple afterwards? * * * * * MASTER TOMMY'S RECEIPTS.--(_Household ginger beer._)--Empty the kitchen spice-box, two pounds of washing soda, a pint of petroleum, and all the wine left in the dining-room decanters over night, into the cistern, and stir freely in the dark with a mop from the staircase window. When the water comes in in the morning, the whole household will be supplied from every tap for four-and-twenty hours with capital ginger beer. * * * * * IN DISTRESS.--Mummy! Mummy! Come back! I'm frightened. Here's a horrid dog _staring at me with his teeth_. * * * * * [Illustration: _Child_ (_in berth of night steamer_). "Mummy, I'm so sleepy. I want to go to bed." _Mother._ "But you _are_ in bed dear." _Child._ "No, I'm not. I'm in a chest of drawers!"] * * * * * [Illustration: THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE.--(_This is the second time that Madge has pricked her finger--the first time it bled so much that mamma felt quite faint, and had to drink a glass of sherry; now it's Jack's turn_). _Mamma._ "Well, what's the matter with _you_, Jack?" _Jack._ "Oh! I feel rather _faint_, that's all. _Is there such a thing as a bun in the house?_"] * * * * * [Illustration: THE FESTIVE SEASON.--_Tommy_ (_criticising the menu of the coming feast_). "Very good! Tray bong! And look here, old man! Mind you put plenty of rum into the _baba_--Dolly and Molly like it, you know--and so do I!" _Monsieur Cordonbleu_ (_retained for the occasion_). "Certainement, mon p'tit ami! But are you and ces demoiselles going to dine viz de compagnie?" _Tommy._ "Oh nong! But just ain't we going to sit on the stairs outside, that's all!"] * * * * *