Instead of bursting into tears, as I had expected, she went off into a fit of idiotic giggles. "You--you don't mean to say you've been up in that tree all tea-time! You are too funny. And you've got a great black splodge over one eye. Do go and wash." With an effort I controlled my rage. "In future," I said coldly, "when I am--er--mowing the lawn, visitors will be served with tea in the second drawing-room." "All right, dear," said Araminta; "and in future, when you are mowing the lawn, you shall have yours taken up into the pear-tree." Women have no sense of humour. * * * * * GIANTS REFRESHED. [Illustration: Our Leaders. "ENOUGH OF DEEDS! LET'S GET TO WORDS!"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Son (lately returned from big game shooting in Africa)._ "There I stood, the ferocious beast facing me, not a yard away--a situation needing such calmness and courage as in this quiet little suburb, my dear mother, you would never be called upon to display." _Parlourmaid._ "If you please, 'M, there's another bison in the kitchen. What would you wish done with it?" _Mother (accustomed to Cockney accent)._ "Put it in Mr. Jack's room, Beatrice, and take away the one that's chipped."] * * * * * TO BE OVERHEARD DAILY. Scene--_A Restaurant._ _First Luncher._ Waiter, bring me the bill, please. _Waiter._ Yes, Sir. _Second Luncher._ No, I say, old man, this is mine. Waiter, bring the bill to me. _W._ Yes, Sir. _F. L._ No, waiter, it's mine. _S. L._ My dear old chap---- _F. L._ Yes, it's mine. Get it, waiter. _W._ Yes, Sir. _S. L._ But I asked you. _F. L._ No, I asked you. _S. L._ Yes, but I asked you first. _F. L._ That doesn't matter. _S. L._ Of course it does. And I've been doing all the ordering too. _F. L._ That's all right. I'm glad you have. You do it very well. _S. L._ Well, I want to pay. _F. L._ Oh, no, my dear fellow. It's my lunch. I've been feeling like the host all the time. _S. L._ So have I. I haven't felt like a guest at all. It's my bill. _F. L._ I couldn't hear of it. You came here to lunch with me. _S. L._ Upon my soul, I thought you were lunching with me. I asked you, you know. _F. L._ You can't deny I asked you; I said, "We'll lunch together next Thursday," didn't I? _S. L._ That's all right, but I swear I asked you first. It was because I had asked you that you said what you said. _F. L._ Well, I look on it as my lunch, anyway. _S. L._ Then why did you let me order the things and send back that wine? _F. L._ That's all right, old man. You've been lunching with me to-day. Next time I'll lunch with you. _S. L._ I'm not satisfied with it. I consider this my lunch. _F. L._ No, no. It's mine. Here's the waiter. _S. L._ Waiter, let me have that. _F. L._ No, waiter, give it to me. _S. L. (snatching the bill, glancing at it, and hastily slamming down a sovereign)._ That's all right, waiter. Keep the change.